


In the Valley of the Moon

by uncoined



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward Flirting, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Depression, Drama & Romance, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Intrusive Thoughts, Light Horror, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Sex, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, That's basically what this is, a sexy slow burn horror romance, farmer is kinky, it's still a romance tho so dont worry lol, sexy horror, shane is a werewolf player is something magic but there's lot's of buildup to it, will add more tags and characters as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25403863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncoined/pseuds/uncoined
Summary: Shane lives in a horror movie. Every full moon, he transforms into a monster, unable to control himself. He’s done terrible things, and doesn’t deserve happiness.Unfortunately, the new farmer has a fascination with the horrific. She’s odd and offbeat, dabbling in magic and trying very hard to be nice to Shane. Normally, he doesn’t have a problem being a jerk to people trying to be his friend, but the farmer is different. He likes her, and he hates it.Maybe he can allow himself to love… just this once.AN: updated the summary
Relationships: Shane (Stardew Valley)/Reader, Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 167





	1. Enter: the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> ooookay so I had uploaded an earlier draft of this a couple days ago with a different name, but once I posted it I realized just how much was wrong with it, so I’ve spent time rewriting it and structuring the plot and characters better. So this is kind of a rewrite/reupload thing going on. This is also my first fic, so please bear with me! I promise not to delete it this time lol
> 
> Also, I suggest that you download one of those chrome extensions that replace y/ n with your actual name, because the entire story is written in third person, even the parts from the reader’s perspective. It’ll probably just flow better narratively if you do that, but it’s not necessary. I’m just real bad at writing in second person lol

As the sun set behind him, Shane trudged up the hill to the abandoned farmhouse to the north, forcing down as much whiskey as he could handle. He had everything he’d need for the night in his backpack: antiseptics, bandages, a change of clothes, a couple raw steaks, and another bottle of whiskey. Shane tried to think about nothing, tried to empty his brain of any word, any image that might haunt him later in the night. Getting shitfaced helped, but it couldn’t quell his anxiety completely.

Shane began to stumble when he saw the old farmhouse in the distance. He’d probably go to the far west part of the farm, maybe try to jump or swim onto an island, and stay as far away from civilization as he could get. Shane wondered if he should invest in a pole and a leash again, even though that nearly killed him the last time he tried. The dim glow of the farmhouse porchlight was comforting in an eerie way, and—

Wait, porchlight? The farmhouse was supposed to be abandoned. And is that a person?

Fuck there’s a _fucking PERSON_ here.

Shane’s mind was sputtering as he grasped for an idea of what to do. Why was _anyone_ at this old farmhouse this late at night? He couldn’t quite make out who the person was from his distance – maybe it was Sam or Sebastian fucking around? – and Shane didn’t recognize the person’s scent and began to panic. Fuck, fucking shit, it was too late to go back to the south of Cindersap, he’d probably get stuck halfway and go berserk right in front of Marnie’s place. Shane was paralyzed in place for what felt like hours as he looked around for an idea, any idea, and latched onto the only one he could conjure. 

He sprinted to his left to the edge of the lake. He stripped himself of his clothes in a rush, chugging whiskey in between each article of clothing. Shane’s heart was beating in his head and his breaths were getting caught in his throat. Twilight was upon him; he didn’t have much time. In the distance, he could hear the person humming to themselves and his heart twisted in dread. Shane chugged the rest of the whiskey, grabbed his backpack, and jumped into the lake.

Swimming was a cold blur. He dragged himself out of the water and onto a distant rocky island, disconnected from the rest of the farm. He crawled in between two large boulders, trying to wedge his body into a position he couldn’t get out of. He ripped out the wet steaks and shoved his clean socks into his mouth.

Full moons were never fun, but this night was going to be especially shitty.

And then a searing pain tore through Shane’s spine. He arched his back as he felt his bones start to break inside his body. A thought crossed his mind, maybe he should smash his head against a rock and knock himself out?, but then the bones in his face began to splinter and he screamed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

(Y/N) had just finished tidying putting the sheets on her new bed when she heard a howl in the distance. It was mangled and painful and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight. She didn’t have to wait long for another scream to rip through the air, this one louder and even more pained. She was frozen in place as she listened to the distant howls of agony. Was it an animal? Was it a person? She honestly couldn’t tell. (Y/N) grew up in the suburbs, and then spent most of her young adulthood in the city; she didn’t know what sort of animals were out there, or what sounds they made were normal or not. She knew foxes and coyotes could make some pretty weird noises – but then she heard another howl and decided something was _definitely_ in pain out there. 

Her legs didn’t want to budge, but the pity in her heart compelled her toward the front door. She looked outside but couldn’t see much beyond the dim glow of her porch light. The farm was overgrown to hell, making it impossible to pick out the silhouette of a creature from the shadows of the trees and weeds. It was quiet – not even the crickets were chirping. (Y/N) gripped the door handle, face tight with anxiety. She called out a tentative “Hello?” into the night but met no response. As she began to wonder if she was overreacting, a mournful howl cut through the air. Now that (Y/N) was outside she could hear just how _close_ it sounded. 

She shivered and quickly closed the door, locking it tight and sticking a kitchen chair under the door handle, hoping that would be enough. She grabbed the rusty old woodcutting axe and gripped it close, ignoring the dirt and rust flakes that stained her soft palms. She scurried into her bedroom and locked that door as well, piled her suitcases in front of the door, closed all the windows despite the cool breeze they let in, and curled up in her bed. 

(Y/N) sat rigid against the bedframe and hugged the axe close. She heard a few more howls and screams for the next half hour or so, but they eventually stopped. After another half hour of silence, the crickets started to chirp again. (Y/N) waited another hour before exhaustion began to tug at her eyelids. She shifted down in bed, cradling the axe in her arms as she entered a dreamless sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Somehow, Shane had managed to stay on the island for the whole night. 

The de-transition was never as painful as the initial transformation, but Shane always remembered it more since he was usually completely sober at that point in the night. His bones _liked_ to be human, so they very gladly reformed and snapped back into place. Didn’t make it any less painful, but the quickness helped him tolerate it. 

Then Shane cleaned himself up. He was covered in sweat, blood, vomit, and all the dead wolf hairs that had fallen out when his follicles closed up. A thorough cleaning in the lake helped wash most of it away, and snap Shane out of his pounding hangover. He cleaned and bandaged any places where his skin had been torn open, but they would heal quickly so he wasn’t too worried. 

His work clothes were wet, though. Shit, that must’ve happened when he swam with his backpack on last night. That meant he’d have to wear his clothes from yesterday and go home before work… Shane grimaced at the thought of facing Marnie in his current condition. He knew what she’d say.

Shane shoved his things back in his bag and swam to the mainland. He didn’t have time to dry off, so he threw his old clothes on before quickly making his way back to Marnie’s farmhouse. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, but that didn’t stop JojaMart from wanting him there at the ass crack of dawn anyway. 

As he walked away from the old farm, Shane sniffed at the air. He could still smell the new person, so they must have slept in the old cabin overnight. They smelled sweet and earthy and… something else. Great, now Shane had to find a new spot for his monthly blackouts. Just terrific.

And of course Marnie was awake when Shane walked in. He came in through the back door, careful not to wake the chickens, and nearly slammed the door in Marnie’s face as he opened it. She took one look at him, and her expression turned from surprise to anger and disappointment. 

“Are you kidding me, Shane? _Again?_ ” Marnie kept her voice low so as to not wake Jas, but her words were venomous. “I can’t believe you keep doing this, and on a weeknight! You’re too old to be getting blackout drunk like this, you’re soaking wet— and look at your face! You’re covered in cuts! What the hell did you do last night?”

Shane tried to brush past her, but Marnie put her arms on her hips and blocked his path. Fuck, he wished he were taller.

“You can’t keep doing this, Shane. If it wasn’t for Jas I would’ve kicked you out a long time ago.”

“I know.”

“How can you be this irresponsible as her godfather? She looks up to you! And you’re throwing your life away!”

“I know.”

“You’re going to kill yourself one day if you keep this up.”

 _“I know,”_ Shane lowered his voice to a growl and glared directly into Marnie’s eyes. She tried to hold her ground against his evil eye, but faltered. She sighed and stepped aside, allowing him to get into his bedroom.

He changed quickly. Marnie already had a pot of coffee on, so he chugged a mug down before leaving. He realized halfway to the JojaMart that he’d forgotten to say goodbye. 

What a shitty start to another shitty day in shitty little Pelican Town.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Shane was on his lunch break outside when he smelled the stranger on the wind. His head snapped up from his phone as he looked desperately around for a new face. But from where he was sitting on the stone bridge, his angles were limited. The town square was mostly empty; Jas and Vincent were playing by the river, Gus was getting ready to open the saloon, and Alex was playing with his mangey dog. But where was she…?

She. Yeah, it was a she. Shane didn’t know how he could tell – he could never tell the gender of someone by scent alone before – but something in the air just smelled _feminine._ Maybe it was a perfume she had on, or maybe she was at a certain part of her cycle. Shane hated how he could smell when girls had their periods, it was so fucking creepy. He could never tell before the attack, girls were always so good at hiding it. But now he could sense it, smell nothing but blood, making his skin itch, and he felt like he was violating their privacy and—

Great, and now he’s thinking about women’s menstrual cycle. Shane was cursed to be a creep if nothing else. Disgusted with himself and desperate to escape the stranger’s scent, Shane shoved the rest of his sandwich down his throat and headed back inside the JojaMart, even though he still had 10 precious minutes of break time left. Shane had never loved the smell of filtered refrigerated air as much as he did right then.

The rest of his shift was uneventful, and Shane had mostly forgotten about strange woman from that abandoned farmland. He changed out of his uniform in the bathroom and headed straight to the saloon. The moon was waxing gibbous now, so he was safe to drink in the saloon till closing if he wanted. Which he probably would.

He was there for a comfortable hour, moping in his usual corner, when the saloon door opened. A gust of air swept in from outside, and on it was _her._ It was overpowering. Shane shivered from some emotion or instinct he didn’t want to identify.

He looked up. A stranger was sitting as the bar, introducing herself to Emily and Gus as the “new farmer in town.” Well, that would explain last night.

Shane shivered and tried to drown himself in his beer. He had to force his eyes down to the floor. He knew that if he tried to look at her face again he’d just stare like a creep until she threw a drink at him. But even though he couldn’t see her, he could still hear her. Even as she made her way to the other side of the bar, Shane could hear her as though she were speaking straight into his ear. Her voice was bright and happy, but quivered with doubt. It was subtle and Shane doubted anyone else would pick up on it. She was nervous, shy maybe. Shane finished his beer and went to Emily for a second.

Shane couldn't help but glance up. God, her smile was so big and bright it made Shane want to rip his skin off. She was wearing a simple, long dress. It didn’t really do anything for or against her, but Shane was still entranced by how the fabric moved on her body as she breathed. He could see that as she walked up to each patron to introduce herself, she would take a big breath in. She was definitely shy, but powering through it with a smile so full of confidence it almost fooled Shane. She played with her hair when talking with Elliot and Leah, and God was it cute—

No, no. No. It was not cute. He wasn’t even going to entertain the idea of getting close to her, physically or otherwise. He couldn’t afford to get close to anyone.

“She’s cute, huh?” 

Emily caught Shane staring before he realized it himself. He tore his eyes away from the girl and scowled at Emily. She had returned with his beer, flashing him a signature smile, her eyes laced with mischief.

“Just give me my beer, Emily.”

“Okayyy, but I still think you should talk to her,” Emily said with a wink. “She doesn’t know how much of a grump you are, yet.”

Shane ripped his beer from her hand and grumbled as he returned to his corner. The fuck did she know about what he wanted or needed? That nosy blue-haired girl was too nice for her own good. Shane kept his eyes low, getting lost in his beer and in thoughts of the forest. 

“H-Hello!”

Shane looked up, and there she was. The new girl. 

“Do I know you?”

“Oh, I guess not,” the girl laughed nervously. She stuck out a hand to shake and smiled broadly. “My name is (Y/N), and I’m the new farmer in town! I just moved into the old farm to the west of town yesterday. I thought I should introduce myself to everyone since I’ll be here for a while.”

Shane looked at her outstretched hand. He took a long sip of beer. “I’m busy, can’t you tell?”

Her smile faltered. She lowered her hand took a step back from him. “Oh. Well, sorry for bothering you. I hope you have a nice night.” She went back to the bar and ordered food and a drink. She took a long sip from her drink once she got it and kept her eyes low for the rest of her meal.

Shane really hated himself.


	2. Junimoooos

Farming was hard. Like, _really_ hard. (Y/N) knew how sheltered and privileged that sounded, even in her head, but she was an adult which meant she could throw a tantrum if she wanted. It had only been a week into farming, and she was miserable. Her body ached, she was covered in sunburns and blisters, and the indoor plumbing had stopped working so she had to wash all her clothes by hand in the river and bathe outside. Screw electricity. To take a warm bath and relax with a bath bomb and listen to lo-fi hip hop… now _that_ was the dream. 

But right now, she was standing in the middle of a dusty field, trying to encourage her crops to grow by venting all her frustrations at them. She was always told that if she spoke to plants they would grow faster, so she hoped ranting to them would do the trick.

Her griping and grumbling were interrupted by the sound of laughing bells. Or… something like that? (Y/N) looked up, trying to identify the source of the strange noise. It jingled again, and when she looked up, she saw a strange creature dancing at the entrance to her farm. It looked that a little green apple with skinny bug legs and beady little fish eyes. (Y/N) blinked a few times, but yeah. There really was a dancing apple giggling at her. 

(Y/N) was entranced. She was careful to step around her sprouts as she walked out of the field toward the little creature. But when she was only a yard away, it danced away and disappeared in thin air. (Y/N) blinked again. It just faded away, like a ghost or— oh, no, he’s just up the road now. 

“What the hell…?” She scratched her head and followed the dancing sprite. Every few yards it would disappear, and the reappear father along the path, encouraging her along toward the town. She lost him for a while, and must’ve looked like an idiot as she wandered in circles around the town square. One of the local housewives asked if she was lost, but (Y/N) just stuttered out some lame response about looking for something. She gave (Y/N) a weird look and left in a hurry. Oops.

The apple popped up again, dancing in the far distance up a hill and away from town. (Y/N) hurried to catch it, surprised that no one else seemed to notice the little dancing creature. He danced up toward the old Community Center, which Mayor Lewis had briefly pointed to when he gave the farmer a tour of the town last week. It disappeared into the door, and (Y/N) hurried to push open the creaky old door and see what was inside.

The place was a dump. (Y/N) thought her cabin looked bad when she first arrived, but this place was a whole other level of decrepit. All the windows were shattered by vines that had forced their way inside, and sprouting trees rose up from between the floorboards. The wood smelled damp and rotten, and gnats buzzed all around her head as she walked through the building. Next to the crumbling fireplace (Y/N) noticed a makeshift hut of leaves and twigs, big enough only for a small child to fit into, and dancing around it was the little green apple, joined by little apple creatures of different colors. Huh.

(Y/N) tried to get closer to them, to touch them or speak to them, but they all danced away, fading into the air and disappearing. (Y/N) was entranced. The voice of her old paranoid city self was screaming in the back of her head to get a grip, to get out of there, that this was the setup to every horror movie she’d ever seen, that she was smarter than this. But (Y/N) felt a pull in her stomach that made her feel safe. She felt… happy. As if these were creatures composed of pure positive energy and she was their chosen recipient of good fortune. There was no animosity in their mischief. It was nice. Very different from the energy of the city.

(Y/N) wandered around the old building for nearly an hour, but eventually the little creatures stopped appearing. She’d found a glowing plaque and golden scroll in one room but couldn’t figure out what either were for. Eventually, (Y/N) had to shrug and leave the building, realizing she’d wasted too much time chasing after the little apple men.

Shit, the sun was setting. (Y/N) pulled out her phone and cursed again at the time – 5:45. Too late to do more farm work, but too early to justify heading home. 

To the saloon it was, then!

(Y/N)’s energy was fluttery, like she was high on pixie dust or something. Not cocaine, ha, that sounded bad. But like, if pixies were real and their wings made magical dust that made you feel all floaty and happy inside… Yeah, that’s how (Y/N) was feeling right now. If ‘magic’ were an emotion, that’s how she would describe it. She couldn’t help but smile as she strolled to the saloon.

Aaaaaand her good mood was ruined by the asshole in the corner. He’d been glaring at the door before she’d even fully walked in, as if he could sense her arrival. His eyes followed her as she walked up to the bar. (Y/N) avoided making eye contact and tried to pretend she didn’t notice him staring at her, but she could feel her heart tighten with doubt and her cheeks prickle with discomfort. It was like she had a magnifying glass held up against her on a sunny day, his gaze burning holes into her very soul. What a creep.

(Y/N) ordered food and a virgin drink from the bartender and tried to distract herself on her phone. She glanced up at the guy in the corner. No, he was looking at the ground now. Okay, maybe she was just overthinking it. Country folk held longer gazes in general, right? Like, wasn’t that a difference between the city and the country, holding eye contact? (Y/N) wasn’t sure. Most of what she knew about rural life came from movies and stereotypes, and she didn’t want to accidentally offend any of her new neighbors with ignorant assumptions. Maybe he was the brooding type of farmer, they must exist outside of movies, right?

When the female bartender came to refill her drink, (Y/N) leaned in to chat.

“Uh, Emily, right?”

“That’s right!” she said with a pearly grin. “What can I do for you, (Y/N)?”

“Can I ask you something? About one of your patrons?” (Y/N) kept her voice low.

“Shoot!”

(Y/N) gestured lightly to the guy in the corner. “What’s his deal?”

Emily turned to look at him, catching his attention. Welp, so much for subtlety. But she just turned back to (Y/N) and laughed.

“Oh, Shane? Don’t take anything he says personally, he’s like that to everyone.”

“You mean being an asshole?”

Emily giggled and slid (Y/N) her drink. “Basically.”

(Y/N) glanced back at him just as he looked away. If he was an ass to everyone, maybe he just had problems. Well, at least it was nothing (Y/N) did. She shrugged and went back to her meal. An old fisherman sat in a seat next to her and (Y/N) struck up a rather interesting conversation. She quickly forgot about the asshole in the corner watching her.

(Y/N) headed home about an hour later, feeling light with happiness. She seemed to be making actual connections with people, and maybe she’ll become friends with some! Save for the town asshole, of course. Ya can’t win em all, she supposed.

As (Y/N) approached her new home, she noticed the tag on her mailbox sticking up. That was weird, the mailbox was empty when she left earlier. And what sort of mailman would deliver mail at 7 pm on a Tuesday? She took out an old parchment letter and made a face at the contents. A guy claiming to be a wizard was asking her to come to his tower in the woods—yeah, no, this was definitely a setup to murder her or some shit like that. Following the apple fairies was dumb enough, (Y/N) wasn’t going to keep acting like a moron.

But as (Y/N) got ready for bed, she thought about it more. She _did_ have an arguably supernatural experience today. Maybe a psychic wizard wasn’t too hard to believe after all. As she drifted off to sleep, she decided she’d investigate this wizard in the forest, with an axe on her hip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pretty short, but i plan to make them longer going forward. the first few chapters are mostly just for setup anyway. like comment and subscribe for more <3


	3. Hesitation

Farming was exhausting. Each day (Y/N) would toil in the fields, plowing dirt and plucking crops and watering the soil, and each night she would collapse on her bed and blankly watch Netflix until she slipped into sleep. Then the sun would rise, and she would do it again. She only left the farm to sell produce to Pierre and buy bait from Willy. She ate only raw fruits and vegetables and fire-smoked fish. While the fresh food was delicious, she was really starting to miss having a kitchen. 

But getting her kitchen repaired cost _money_. Investing in an irrigation system cost money. Going to the saloon to socialize and make friends cost money. Farming, fishing, and foraging wasn’t going to cut it. The mines to the north had valuable ores and gemstones. They were abandoned and dangerous, but (Y/N) needed new income. She was exhausted, and bored, and maybe a little desperate for adventure. 

That afternoon, instead of fishing along her farm’s river, (Y/N) headed north. Hiking through the mountain pass brought her to a hill just above Robin’s house, and a short walk to the lake brought her to the mine’s entrance. (Y/N)’s legs were stiff and her arms were limp from working in the fields, but she trudged inside nonetheless. 

Exiting as she entered was a tall, grizzled old man with an eyepatch. He stopped and blocked her path inside the mines as he looked her up and down. Normally, (Y/N) would be apologetic and play up the niceties, but she was tired. Tired and bored and irritated. She muttered a short _“Excuse me,”_ and tried to step around him.

“You’re gonna want more than just a pickaxe in there, miss,” the old man grunted. (Y/N) glared at him. 

“I don’t appreciate being patronized. Now, please, excuse me.”

The old man narrowed his eye at her. “I’m not patronizing. I’m being serious. The mines are dangerous, and if you can’t defend yourself, you’ll die. Here,” he shrugged off his large backpack, shuffling inside before pulling out a short, rusty sword, “take this. This’ll help getch’ya by until you get a feel for the mines.”

“Um… thanks.”

“And if you can kill ten slimes, come see me at the Adventurer’s Guild,” the old man said, hefting the sack back on his shoulders. “If you’re a true adventurer, I’ll reward you.” And with that, he moved out of (Y/N)’s way and walked down toward the lake. 

…Slimes?

~*~*~*~*~*~

The mines required much more _mining_ that (Y/N) had honestly expected. She thought the levels would be easy to navigate, letting her search for valuable ores and gems at her leisure, but it appeared that all the ladders and stairs between levels had collapsed and needed to be dug up. (Y/N) was only a few levels down when the dread started seeping into her bones. The darkness was pervasive and impenetrable. Despite the small torches fallen across the ground ( _from where?_ she had to ask, but she dreaded to know the answer), (Y/N) had difficulty seeing more than a foot in front of her. Her shoulders and arms were aching from doing so much digging, the pickaxe heavy in her palms, and her bag was weighing her down with stones and ores. Even after a month of hard farm work, it seemed she was still physically very weak. (Y/N) growled in frustration. God, she wanted to cry. This was stupid.

And then a moist, squelching sound cut through the dark. (Y/N) snapped up straight, holding the pickaxe before her. The noise got closer, echoing its way through the mines, and (Y/N) walked backwards. Her arms were heavy from exertion and the pickaxe felt like it was slipping – wait, shit, she had a sword! (Y/N) scrambled to put her pickaxe in its proper loop on her bag and pull the sword out at the same time. She fumbled the bag and it fell off her back, spilling rocks and ores across the dark cavern floor. (Y/N) cursed and started to shove them back in her bag, but gave up halfway, then – _fuck_ – struggled to zip the bag back up, and, shit, where was that sound coming from? (Y/N) stood and gripped the rusty iron blade tightly. (Y/N) wished she’d brought the sword out earlier; its silver sheen reflected what little light there was in the mine, helping her see just that little bit better. And that additional shimmer of light was exactly what she needed to see the squelching, shapeless blob of green goo slithering toward her.

…Was that the slime? (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. She was working herself up over nothing! A little gelatinous blob, that was all. But just as she sighed in relief, she heard a screech echo through the cave. (Y/N) looked all around her, trying to identify the location. It screeched again, this time closer, and as she turned to face the noise a creature emerged from the darkness and flew past her head, scratching at her face and tangling in her hair before ripping itself out with a shriek. (Y/N) stepped back. A shock of pain shot up her leg and (Y/N) felt immobilized, her leg stiff all the way up to the hip, her shoulders scrunched upward in paralysis. She forced her neck to turn to the ground, and she saw her foot consumed by the slime. She leaned all her weight onto her other leg and _kicked_ with her abdomen, pelting the slime off her foot. In that same motion, she swung her sword above her head blindly, knocking back the bat from attacking her head again. She limped toward the exit, and then ran as soon as her hip joint regained feeling. She pulled herself up the ladder two rungs at a time, racing up the levels until she was sprinting through the entrance of the mine. (Y/N) gripped her knees as she bent over to catch her breath. Fuck, that was a close one. She’d have to ask the local doctor for a rabies test tomorrow. And maybe a tetanus one, too.

As she limped home, (Y/N) derided herself more and more. A bat and a slime creature didn’t seem like that most dangerous things in the world. The old man couldn’t have meant _those_ things were so dangerous they could kill her. Which meant there were far greater secrets hidden in those mines. (Y/N) sighed. Maybe she’d become less of a pussy with time.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, (Y/N) spent her afternoon in Cindersap Forest rather than the mines. The mines had an undeniable economic incentive to them, but Harvey told her to get a day of rest. Chopping wood counted as rest, right?

The sun was low, tinting the cloudy blue sky with a hint of lilac. She looked as she walked through the forest, watching the clouds drift in the breeze through the dappled openings of the treetops. The stone tower loomed in the distance, and the farmer suddenly remember the wizard. Damn, she hadn’t been back to see him since the whole junimo thing happened. She should stop in and say hello. 

Or… maybe she shouldn’t. (Y/N) felt the anxiety start to bulk up in her throat. She’d vowed not to let her anxiety get in the way of her new life here, but it had been a whole-ass month and she still barely knew half the townspeople. People were friendly, at first, but now she felt it was far too late to start making an appearance. It’d be so awkward. 

But God, she was so lonely. (Y/N) looked back at the ominous tower and swallowed her fears. She marched forward, determined to be as friendly as physically possible. 

She didn’t even knock before the heavy wooden door creaked open. (Y/N) hesitantly let herself inside. The wizard didn’t seem to notice her at first. He was hunched over his large cauldron, basking in the glowing green aura the boiling mixture emanated. 

“I was wondering when you would return,” the wizard said, not looking up from his concoction. (Y/N) didn’t know what to say, so she looked around the tower instead. The last time she was here, she’d only been able to glance at the wizard’s shelves. Now, she could really look at them.

He had shelves all up the height of the tower, nearly three stories worth. Each shelf was stuffed with bottles and books and fruits and mushrooms and feathers and gems, and (Y/N) wondered how the wizard was able to get so high up the tower without a staircase. The shelves at her eye level were stacked with jars containing what seemed to be a variety of jams and pickled products. She couldn’t make out the calligraphy cursive on the labels, so they were either magical ingredients for his spells and potions, or preserved foods. (Y/N) hoped they were the former.

“Do you have a reason for being here?” The wizard’s voice interrupted (Y/N)’s wandering, making her jump.

“Sorry! I was just in the area and thought I’d say hi. Just because it’s been a while. But- but I can leave! If I’m being a bother I can—”

The wizard waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, you are no bother. If you wish to learn more about magic, you need simply ask.”

“Learn… magic?” (Y/N) was confused. “Um, thanks, but I’m not even sure I believe in magic. Sure, I used to believe in mermaids and fairies and stuff, but that was when I was a kid.”

“And how would you explain the junimos, then? What other explanation can you conjure?”

“I… I guess you have a point.”

“Then consider my offer.” The wizard still hadn’t looked up from his cauldron. “I have seen your future, (Y/N), and you are filled with magical potential. I believe that with proper mentorship, you may become a skilled magician, indeed.”

(Y/N) had no idea what that meant. “You’ve seen my future?”

“Yes.”

“So… does that mean you know who I marry?”

“You really wish to know something so mundane?”

“Kinda!”

“No.”

“Do you mean ‘no’ as in ‘no you’re not answering my question,’ or ‘no’ as in ‘you don’t know’?”

The wizard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I shall summon you by mail when I’m ready to begin your lessons.”

“Uhh okay! Sure, yeah, that sounds good.” (Y/N) glanced around the wizard’s tower again. Was she supposed to leave? Her eyes grazed the purple and blue wallpaper and old cobbled masonry, flitting along the bookshelves and case displays, until they landed on something shiny and blue. Something she’d noticed the last time she was here. (Y/N) pointed at the blue curved sword tucked away in a display case. “What’s that?”

The wizard turned to where she was pointing. He quirked an eyebrow as he approached the display case, noting his surprise that she could spot it through all the clutter. He removed the sword from the case and held it high. The hilt was simple plated silver, but adorned with natural pearls and sparkling seaglass. The blade itself was textured with faint lines, imitating layers of bedrock, and the light bounced off of the blueish metal like it was made of an iridescent clam shell. 

“This is Neptune’s Glaive,” the wizard stated, satisfaction eking into his voice. “Legend says that Neptune forged these swords himself deep in underwater volcanos for his elite mermaid soldiers. It is no coincidence that you were drawn to this weapon.”

The wizard walked to the farmer and held the hilt out to her. “Take it. It will do you well.”

(Y/N)’s eyes bulged. She nervously took the sword, sputtering between declining the gift and gladly accepting it. It was heavier than it looked, and a bit shorter, too, like an old Bronze Age gladius. She excitedly rambled on about the mines and the slimes and mermaids and her childhood dreams of adventure until the wizard finally shooed her out of his tower. 

(Y/N) stepped out onto the front step of the tower. As she looked out across the treetops of the forest, watching the sky blend from blue to orange, she thought about the mines again. Was that what the wizard meant when he said he saw her future? (Y/N) was giddy as she looked at the sword again. The evening light made it shimmer, like it was imbued with some sort of underwater enchantment. She should test it out.

(Y/N) practically ran home, emptied her bag of all but her sword and pickaxe, and ran back up through the north mountain pass. This was going to be so much better than that rusty old sword the eyepatch guy had given her. The sky was clear, and as the sun set behind her, the full moon faded into view against the lavender sky. 

(Y/N)’s excitement translated into confidence. The mining aspect of exploring was still exhausting, but the weight of the stones on her back only made her blade feel that much lighter. She was catching onto the jumping pattern of the slimes and was figuring out how to dodge and block before they poisoned her with their goop. Once they were dead, their slime seemed to be collectible. When she picked it up, the slime was like jello wrapped in a thin wrapping of cellophane. She could probably use this in her construction projects, somehow. The bats were getting easier to predict, too. If she ducked and blocked at the right time, they were pretty easy to slice in half. It was gory, and at first (Y/N) felt bad for killing the little mammals, but her sympathy faded quickly after 5 or 6 bat attacks.

(Y/N) explored the mines until her bag was full. Other than rocks and ores, she’d collected a decent amount of coal and semi-precious gemstones. She hadn’t gone down too much deeper than yesterday, but she still couldn’t help but grin at her progress. She’d be a full blown badass in no time! She slipped out of the mines and took the north pass home, eager to sort through her loot. 

The leaves rustled against each other in the wind like chattering teeth as the farmer walked under the moonlight. She shivered and felt a shift in the wind. A stillness woke (Y/N) from her thoughts, and she looked up through the moonlit night to see a large beast padding through the underbrush.

(Y/N) halted and cut her breath short. She gripped the hilt of her sword tight but dared not move, lest her sword glimmer in the wrong way and alert the beast to her presence. It was big, she could tell that much, and dark. A bear or wolf, maybe. It was sniffing and scratching at the bushes, maybe looking for salmonberries. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she should turn around and run through town or stand her ground until the bear left. Damn, either way there was a good chance she’d end up eaten. (Y/N) shifted the gladius in her hand. Maybe she could…

Shifting the blade in her hand made it glint against the full moon and catch the beast’s attention. Its head snapped up and its holographic stare held (Y/N) down. Its pupils refracted the silver moonlight, hovering like moons in the darkness.

The blade twitched upward; the beast stepped forward; a truck barreled down the highway, and the beast turned its attention south and chased after the noise. (Y/N) gasped at the sight of its galloping body. It was huge as a bear, but skinny and long and mangey and black. It covered at least 30 feet of ground in only a few large strides, then jumped down onto the road below the underpass with a thud. (Y/N) finally let out a panicked cry and turned on her heel, sprinting home through the main town.

It was nearly 1 am when (Y/N) walked through her front door. Stupid, stupid, stupid. (Y/N)’s limbs were shaking as she stripped and got in the shower. She shuddered against the scalding water. It poured down her shoulders and evaporated against her sweaty skin. She gripped her arms tight, trying to stop herself from shaking. 

_What was that?_

~*~*~*~*~*~

The farm was starting to come along. Two months of hard labor were turning (Y/N)’s ramshackle island chain into an attractive piece of property. Although she was still a night owl at heart, she was starting to appreciate rising with the sun. It had been nearly two months since (Y/N) had abandoned her old life in the city as a cog in the corporate machine. Her father had been more than supportive, even though her college degree was completely worthless now. Her stepmom and sister were rightfully shocked, though, so at least (Y/N) wasn’t crazy.

Today, however, the farmer would not be farming. Today, the farmer would be EGGING. Or more specifically, attending the Egg Festival. (Y/N) didn’t really have any friends in town yet, and the Egg Festival was the perfect opportunity to meet more people.

Getting dressed up for the event reminded her of her old work routine from the city: pick out cute clothes (in this case a sundress), throw on some simple makeup, straighten her hair, and add some jewelry for flavor. Except now she wasn’t going to the office to vegetate in front of a computer for 8 hours and have the guy three cubicles down sexually harass her. Today, she was actually going to have fun.

(Y/N) even put on her mother’s necklace, a small, simple shell pendant. Her father said the shell was once an impossible shade of cyan, but it had since dulled to a modest periwinkle. (Y/N) looked herself up and down in the small bathroom mirror. Not too flashy, not too immodest, but at the very least it was her Sunday best. She forced a smile. Good enough.

(Y/N) walked slowly, not wanting to arrive too early. She heard cheerful music and the sound of a crowd, meaning festivities had begun. (Y/N)’s heart started to race. She wondered if it was a bad idea to come – sure, the _mayor_ had invited her, but he was probably obligated to invite everyone since he was the mayor. Or would it be weirder not to go? Were the cultural events here that serious? Was she overdressed for this? Underdressed? (Y/N) pulled at her hair nervously, but forced herself forward into town. 

The buildings were all dressed up with colorful paper eggs and bunnies, some well painted and others clearly drawn by children. The square was neatly organized into buffet tables, a dining area, and an open area where people mingled. The children and some of the older teenagers were wearing bunny ears, and while the adults weren’t dressed up any nicer than normal, they all had an energetic energy to them that made their faces glow with happiness. (Y/N) stood at the top of the town square, glancing around for a place to inject herself. Once she started talking, she was sure she’d be fine. Unfortunately, the only person not already in a conversation was that rude guy she’d met at the bar her first night in town. 

Hm. He’d have to do.

(Y/N) walked up to the buffet table he was inspecting. He didn’t seem to notice her just behind him. What should she say? _Hey asshole, hope you’re doing well?_ (Y/N) definitely wasn’t sarcastic enough to pull that off. The guy from the bar – what was his name again? Sean? Shane? – was barely touching the buffet, and with one look she understood why.

“Is all the food seriously made out of eggs?” (Y/N) couldn’t help but scoff.

The bar guy barked out a laugh (yeah his name was definitely Shane) without turning around. “Yeah, it’s pretty bland stuff. And that’s coming from a guy who likes eggs.

“It’s still nice to see the product of our hens’ hard work, though. Tonight I’ll probably—buh…” he finally turned around to see who he was speaking to, and the moment he saw it was (Y/N) it was like he forgot how to speak. He glanced up and down her body, his widened eyes lingering at her chest until (Y/N) crossed her arms and made a face. He muttered something under his breath and turned back around to the buffet table, stuffing his face with eggs. Weird. Very weird.

(Y/N) let a painful moment of silence linger in the air. She wondered if she should just leave, but… where? It’s not like she had anywhere else to go. (Y/N) finally sighed and asked, “What will you do tonight?”

“What?” 

“You said something about hens, and doing something tonight?”

“Oh, right. I was going to treat them to sweet corn,” he mumbled. He looked embarrassed having to say it out loud. “They deserve it.”

“That’s nice. Do you work on a farm or something?” (Y/N) walked up next to him, arms still crossed over her chest.

“Buh… kinda. I live with my aunt, so they’re technically her hens, but I take care of them when I can.”

“That’s… cool.” He was like 26 and lived with his aunt?? (Y/N) was starting to get mother’s-basement vibes from this guy. Then a thought occurred to her. “Wait, who’s your aunt?”

“Marnie.”

“Oh! I’ve met her a few times, she’s really nice. And hey, that means we’re neighbors!” (Y/N) smiled, hoping it would make the conversation less awkward. “Marnie lives just south of me, right?”

“Think so, yeah.” Now he was holding eye contact. Unwaveringly. 

“Your name is… Shane, right?”

“Yeah.”

(Y/N) waited for him to confirm her name, but no. He just looked at her, his eyes dark and intense. There seemed to be six different emotions stewing behind his eyes, and (Y/N) couldn’t figure out a single one of them. Her heart started to race as she got lost in his eyes. Luckily, someone else joined the conversation, stopping (Y/N) from making a fool of herself.

“Happy Egg Day, farmer (Y/N)!” exclaimed the rancher Marnie as she walked up to the buffet table. Her smile was jovial and warm. Marnie had always given off ‘mom’ vibes the few times (Y/N) had spoken to her, making conversation easy. “I see you’ve already met my nephew, Shane!”

“O-oh, yes! We’ve, ah, met before, a few times, but- but he’s really nice.” Fuck. 

Marnie giggled at that and gave (Y/N) a knowing look. (Y/N) blushed and glanced up at Shane. He looked just as flustered as she felt, his eyes darting between herself, Marnie, and the plate of egg-themed foods he was holding awkwardly. Then (Y/N) heard Marnie gasp excitedly, pulling (Y/N)’s attention away from Shane.

“Oh! Who’s the lucky lover?”

(Y/N) quirked her head, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Your mermaid pendant,” Marnie smiled and gestured to her chest. “You’re engaged! Is it someone from the city? It seems too soon to meet someone from Pelican Town already, but I suppose you never know—”

“Oh, ha ha, _noooo_ I’m not engaged,” (Y/N) cut Marnie off, waving her hands in front of her and chuckling uncontrollably. “This was my mother’s necklace. I didn’t know— is it— does it mean you’re engaged in Stardew Valley?”

Marnie was clearly surprised, and her excitement sobered quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry dear! Typically, yes. Here in the valley you give the pendant to someone you want to marry. It’s a bit more magical than a ring,” she said with a wink. “I’m surprised your father never told you, since he grew up here.”

(Y/N) went to her necklace and held the delicate shell between her fingers. “Yeah… my mom gave it to him, so I guess he must’ve forgot to tell me about the engagement part. Maybe he thought it was implied. But we don’t usually give pendants in the city. Just boring old rings.”

Marnie’s face fell even further. Aaaand now things were awkward again. _Nice job bringing up your dead mom, (Y/N)._ Marnie politely excused herself, leaving (Y/N) alone with Shane.

Shane was glanced at her chest again, his expression a little softer now. Maybe he wasn’t staring at her breasts earlier, but her necklace? He must’ve thought she was engaged. Was that why he was acting so weird? As (Y/N) started to help herself to some eggs, eggs, and more eggs, she wondered if Shane was nervous like this all the time. That could explain why he seemed to spend all his free time at the bar drinking. Or maybe he was like her, a socially anxious mess but only in specific circumstances. (Y/N) glanced up at him again out of the corner of her eye. His dark hair was falling in front of his eyes as he bent his head to get food. It was cute. 

That last thought made her heart race like a schoolgirl. Shane left the buffet table after a minute of shuffling about, and (Y/N) watched him head to a corner of the festival. He was handsome now that she could see him in proper daylight, and not acting like a prick. Tall, dark, and handsome, minus the tall part. And, well, not _that_ handsome, but still very squarely her type. (Y/N) hummed to herself. Hmmmmm.

“Hmmmmm,” a voice mocked from behind. (Y/N) whipped around to see Emily the bartender smiling playfully at her. “You two are surprisingly similar.”

“Oh God,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, her face flushed. “How much of that did you see?”

“Basically all of it. It was cute in a really, really painful way.” Emily giggled and invited (Y/N) to join her for the rest of the morning. Emily's infectious energy helped (Y/N) forget about the unbelievably awkward start to her day. And at midday, the egg hunt began. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if adults were able to join, but when she saw a few other young people (maybe they were teenagers?) and Emily’s encouragement, (Y/N) ran up to join.

“Hi,” she smiled to the violet-haired girl next to her. “I’m (Y/N).”

The girl smiled back. “I’m Abigail. It’s nice to officially meet the new farmer in town.”

“Same! I mean, you’re not a farmer, I don’t think, but uh. Yeah. Is it weird for me to be doing the egg hunt?”

“Haha, no, I’ve done this every year since I was a kid. My friends just aren’t here cuz they’re lame.” Abigail gestured with a shrug to two boys loitering under a tree. And then the egg hunt began, and (Y/N) was off running.

She barely managed to find 3 eggs, while Abigail had somehow gotten 8, and was crowned winner. Winner for 10 years in a row? Damn. Afterwards, (Y/N) was able to schmooze her way into hanging out with Abigail and her friends for the rest of the afternoon. She got big ‘Cool Kid’ vibes from all three of them, but they were surprisingly welcoming of her presence. (Y/N) was finally making friends. 

But thoughts of Shane lingered in the back of (Y/N)’s head. On her way home late that night, the farmer couldn’t get his face out of her head. He had a strong jawline hidden under that 5 o’clock shadow and layer of pudge, but she kind of liked the light fat. It made him look soft, like a teddy bear. She thought about what it would be like to hug him, to hold him, to feel his body press against hers. Maybe he’d even wrap his arms around her, and they’d be strong since he worked on a farm, but he’d be gentle as he trailed his fingers along her back, and then she’d look up at his face and—

Wow. Okay, this fantasy was getting out of hand. (Y/N) cursed her heart for falling for the town asshole. Sam and Sebastian both seemed like nice young men, but _nooooo_ , she just had to be into the gloomy town outcast. (Y/N) wondered what Shane was really like behind that grumpy persona. The few times she’d been to the saloon, he was always there sulking in the corner. Maybe that’s where she could find him again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Egg Festival had put the farmer behind schedule and wasn’t able to visit the saloon until a few days later, on a sleepy weekday night. She was wearing a typical farming outfit, her jeans and boots still dirty from work, but had made a simple, significant alteration to her flannel: she unbuttoned it. By exposing her simple black tank top and a full chest of skin, she hoped this would work as a good backup plan if she got tongue tied.

Tonight was a test. Assuming Shane was even at the saloon (spoiler: he was), (Y/N) still hadn’t decided if she was interested in him, romantically or otherwise. If he gave off more creepy vibes, then maybe she’d just settle for a friendship and move on. Tonight, instead of leaning against the wall under the enormous wooden bear statue, Shane was tucked into a booth, nursing a beer.

 _Remember, (Y/N): Confidence._ The farmer bought two beers and walked up to Shane’s booth.

“Hi, Shane,” she greeted with a smile, “mind if I join you?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even look up.

“Well, what if there was a free beer in it for you?” (Y/N) gestured with one of the bottles. Shane hesitantly looked up at it.

“Tempting…” He looked at the bottle some more as he contemplated her offer. Then he sighed. “Fine, you can sit.”

(Y/N) grinned as she sat down across from him. She slid his beer over to him before opening her own. She took a deep swig until the bitter taste became too much to handle.

“Bleh…” (Y/N) stuck out her tongue in disgust. “So gross…”

“Why’d you get beer if you don’t like it?” Shane scoffed. His tone was coarse, but his eyes danced with amusement. 

“It was easier to buy two beers at once,” (Y/N) shrugged, trying to play it cool. “And cocktails are stupidly expensive everywhere, even in Stardew Valley.” 

“Ah, so you’re a cocktail girl. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

(Y/N) chuckled at that, half-offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re just so,” Shane waved his hand, “I don’t know, bubbly. I bet you’re a margarita girl.”

“’Bubbly,’ huh? Never been called that before. And I’m not picky when it comes to alcohol. I’ll drink anything as long as it’s sweet.”

Shane chuckled again, raising his eyebrows at her. “That’s so childish.”

“Wow, _rude_ ,” (Y/N) scoffed and raised her eyebrows, trying to hide a smirk as she played up being offended. She wasn’t actually offended, but she saw an opportunity to tease him and jumped on it. “Excuse me for wanting my drinks to actually taste good when I want to drown my sorrows in alcohol! How many beers does it take you to get drunk, huh? Like, eight? I only need two strawberry daquiris in me before I basically have alcohol poisoning. Check-mate.”

Shane had been mid-sip when (Y/N) started her bit, and now the beer hovered by his mouth, his eyes serious and wide. (Y/N) couldn’t help but break character and giggle. 

“Dude, lighten up,” (Y/N) giggled. He was cute when he was flustered. “I’m just messing with you.”

Now he was irritated. Shane finished his first beer quickly and moved onto the one (Y/N) had bought for him. He took a swig and then looked back at the farmer, his eyes returning to their typical stony gaze. “Why are you talking to me? I hardly know you.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I hardly know anyone in this town. Hardly knowing each other is something we have in common.”

“We don’t have anything in common,” Shane spat. 

“Sure we do!” (Y/N) smiled back, forcing down more of her beer before continuing. “We both live in Pelican Town. We both like alcohol, just different types. We’re both farmers. And—” 

“I’m not a farmer.”

(Y/N) cocked her head. “But I thought—”

“I work at JojaMart,” Shane shook his head. He looked dejected just having to admit it out loud. “I don’t work on Marnie’s ranch, I just live with her.”

A beat. Then (Y/N) forced a small smile. 

“Well, then we’ve both worked for Joja. And both hated it. At least, I assume you hate your job based on your posture right now.”

Shane grumbled and sat up a bit straighter. He drank more beer and looked down at the farmer, his eyes searching her face for… something. He looked guarded and nervous, but more like he was actively holding himself back from speaking, rather than not wanting to speak at all. Or maybe she was reading into him too much. 

“I didn’t know you worked at JojaMart.”

“Oh, not the supermarket. I worked in their offices back in ZuZu City.” (Y/N) shuddered. “That place was miserable.”

“Tell me about it.”

They held eyes again, softer and longer than before. Shane gave just the slightest smile before catching himself and drowning himself in his beer. (Y/N) liked his smile. It made his eyes twinkle and her heart flutter and she wanted to see it more. 

…Huh.

(Y/N) decided to pull out her final trick. She adjusted her posture so that her chest was more visible. A little wiggle in her seat, shoulders back, chest perked up just the slightest. She was wearing a simple necklace (not her mother’s) to draw attention from her face downward along her neck to the top of her breasts. She took a sip of beer and watched as Shane’s eyes drifted down her features. His eyes were soft and dazed, unconscious of what his eyes were doing, but he at the very least seemed more relaxed. (Y/N) leaned against the table, hoping it would press against her boobs and make them appear bigger. She could’ve sworn Shane was blushing, now.

“So, what do you do for fun, Shane?” (Y/N) asked in a low tone. She hoped she sounded seductive.

Shane’s eyes snapped up to her face. “Nothing,” he said quickly.

“You don’t do _anything_ for fun?”

“Um. No.”

(Y/N) glanced at what he was wearing. Under his ratty old Joja sweatshirt seemed to be a Tunnelers sports jersey. “Do you like gridball?”

“O-oh, yeah I do. I used to play when I was younger.”

(Y/N) perked up at that. “Really? That’s so cool! I’ve always liked gridball." Then the farmer smirked and leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "I like watching all those big, sweaty men tossing that ball around, wrestling each other as they fight for it…” (Y/N) held Shane’s eyes. “It excites me.”

(Y/N) watched Shane’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulped. He seemed to be suppressing a nervous smile and fighting down a blush. Watching his eyes dance with emotions made (Y/N) feel a flush of warmth deep in her stomach. The longer they held eye contact, the more (Y/N)’s stomach fluttered with arousal. It was like he was challenging her, daring her to look away. But she held his gaze, leaning in and blinking slowly. Shane blinked away his blush and looked away, taking a long drink of beer. (Y/N) smirked.

Shane’s posture tensed up again, and he glared at her, this time not meeting her eye. “What do you want from me?”

(Y/N) blinked, still smiling. “Um… nothing?”

“Then just… just leave me alone.” 

…Oh. (Y/N) thought she had done pretty good with that cheesy gridball line, but maybe he was more perturbed than he was flustered. She gave it another moment, and then stood, announcing she was heading home.

Shane kept his eyes on the table, his jaw clenched tight. Crap, maybe she fucked up. (Y/N) downed the rest of her beer to hide her embarrassment. She said a quick hello and goodbye to Emily before heading home. 

(Y/N) tried not to overthink all the little moments on her way home. Whenever she caught his eye, there were too many emotions swimming in them for her to decipher. At times he seemed repulsed by her, his eyes scathing and judgmental, but other times he had a nervous, eager-to-please air about him. She could’ve done so many things differently tonight. She could’ve been sweet instead of cool, maybe less direct, or maybe _more_ direct and less cheesy, or maybe she should’ve just stuck with friendship before trying to dive right into flirting… (Y/N) groaned. She was going to kill herself if she kept thinking like this.

Shane didn’t seem to dislike her company, though. He was prickly and awkward, but a bad actor. At the very least, he was lonely. (Y/N) wondered if he had any friends. The only person she’d ever see speak to him was Marnie, and he lived with her so that didn’t really count. 

Next time, (Y/N) wouldn’t fudge things up this bad. Now she had to prepare for his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i edited this chapter to death and yet it still feels too long and slow... next chapter is from shane's perspective, though, so im excited about that!


	4. Looking, Longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading if you're still keeping up with this story! i had a lot more fun writing from shane's perspective, and wrote much faster, so a lot more of the story might be from his perspective. i just hope i characterized him well
> 
> also, just as a warning, there's more description of gore in this chapter. I don't think it's that bad, and it's very brief, but I thought I'd say something here just in case.

(Y/N) couldn’t figure out what the wizard saw in her. He’d been insistent upon her learning ‘magic’ from him, but after her third ‘lesson,’ it was clear she couldn’t do shit. She could sense magic, at the very least. It was hard to describe exactly what it felt like, other than a tugging at her heart, almost like it was overwhelmed by emotion, in moments where she was otherwise very stoic. At first, she thought they were mini anxiety attacks, but when she described it to the wizard during their second meeting he told her she was sensing magical energy. 

But that was all (Y/N) was able to do. She couldn’t conjure flames, she couldn’t see into the future, she couldn’t hear the dead, she couldn’t make things levitate. All she could do was feel, like a big useless baby.

The wizard said very little, even when instructing. The farmer couldn’t tell if he was just a bad teacher or expected her to pick things up quicker than she was. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated tonight, probably from her lack of progress. _Well, that’s what he gets for thinking I’m special,_ the farmer thought bitterly as she stepped out of the tower. 

On her way out he’d said curtly, “Go home immediately.” 

Fuck that, he can’t tell her what to do. She was going fishing.

The farmer explored Cindersap a little bit more, wandering south as the sun set. Eventually, she settled on a little island in the middle of the lake. The fishing was good tonight. She was catching fish she’d never seen before. She recalled Willy explaining that some fish only came out at night, and she felt a pang of guilt for not saying hello to the man more often. He was the one who got her dad into fishing, which led him away from chilly Stardew Valley and down to the tropics where he met (Y/N)’s mother. 

The farmer was trying to unhook a fish and place it in her cooler when she stabbed herself with the hook. She hoped that wouldn’t get infected. It was then that she realized just how late it was. The darkness made it hard to see past her hands, let alone unhook a fish. She packed up and walked down the plank bridge. She’d take the leisurely way home, tonight. The moon was high and full, illuminating the forest in an eerie, romantic fog. Insects hummed softly through the rustling leaves. It was beautiful.

The farmer stopped at the edge of the lake, peering across the water at Leah’s cabin. Shit, she thought there was a bridge here. She turned around, glancing around the lakeshore, but sighed when she didn’t see any bridges. She’d have to walk all the way around again. Great.

The farmer trudged into the dark woods, shuffling through underbrush, trying not to get her pole tangled in too many leaves. As she emerged from the shrouds, she entered the clearing before the first bridge. Blocking her path was a wolf.

The farmer froze. Fangs. Eyes. A black mass of hair and muscle. The wolf crouched as it stared at the farmer, unmoving. (Y/N) watched its back slowly rise and fall with each breath it took, while she struggled to catch her own. It was so close she could almost see the color of its iris, that sliver of green or yellow that wrapped around the shimmering silver pupil that belonged to all nocturnal predators. Only a few yards away. 

(Y/N) wished she had her sword.

The farmer finally breathed, shuddering with gasp. The beast twitched. It began to pace, slowly, to its left. (Y/N) stayed immobile, watching with her eyes as the beast move in a semicircle around her. It kept its distance but inched closer to her every few steps. As it moved, she was able to get a better look at its body, and the fear made shake as she realized it might not have been a wolf, after all. It was tall, its shoulders maybe the same height as her waist. Its muscles were thick and bulky but distributed more like a man’s than a wolf’s. Its limbs were long and gangly, tucked in like a cat’s. It was black, maybe a very dark brown, covered in patches with long wiry hair. Its pink lips were peeled back to show off fearsome yellow fangs dripping with saliva. Fangs. 

The farmer dropped her fishing gear and ran. Behind her, she heard the scuffling of paws and feet against dirt. Her heart slammed in her chest as she sprinted across the rickety planks of wood, making it across the lake and not looking back until she got home. She nearly slammed into her front door, unable to stop her momentum. She panted hard and deep, her lungs burning and her throat tasting strongly of blood. She hadn’t run for that long, that fast, _ever._ (Y/N) gripped her door handle and leaned against her door, bending down as she tried to remember how to breathe. 

Why did this keep happening to her?

~*~*~*~*~

They say that April showers bring May flowers, but this May seemed to be nothing but rain. It was no real bother to (Y/N); she was allergic to the pollen of most spring flowers, and the free crop watering gave her an excuse to spend time fishing or in the mines. Today, she chose the latter.

It was nearly 3 when she emerged with all the loot she wanted. She speed walked down to Clint’s, trying to catch him before he closed shop for the day. She’d found some cool geodes to break open and didn’t want to lug them back into town tomorrow if it could be done today.

Clint was clearly irritated at her coming in so close to closing, but oh well. She didn’t see anyone else coming in with ores and gems to sell. Unfortunately, all Clint found in the geodes was more ores, meaning the only thing (Y/N) had to give Shane for his birthday was one of the quartzes she’d picked up from the cavern floor. It was just her luck that as she left Clint’s shop, she saw Shane walking past, his head low as he walked away from the JojaMart. His shift must’ve just ended!

“Hey, Shane!” (Y/N) called out as she walked toward him. His head perked up and he stopped, but his face gave away nothing. (Y/N) smiled as she approached him. “Rough day at work, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, at least it’s over now, right? Hey, I’m glad I caught you,” the farmer grinned as she shifted her bag off one shoulder. She unzipped it, balancing it on one knee as she shuffled through it, finally finding the sharp edges of the crystal she wanted. “I figured you’d be at the saloon later, but this saves me the extra trip back into town.”

She pulled out the quartz, handed it to Shane and smiled broadly. “Happy birthday.”

He looked confused, hesitating before taking the quartz from her. The farmer couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. His work cap was low on his head, water draining off the brim of the cap, shrouding his eyes as he turned the mineral around in his hand.

“…It's my birthday and you give me this?” he eventually said, his tone low and monotonous. “Is this some kind of joke?”

(Y/N)’s smile fell. “You don’t like it?”

Shane looked up at her like she was the stupidest person he’d ever heard speak. “It’s a rock. Of course not.”

“Oh. Well, um…” (Y/N) felt her face flush despite the rain. She ducked her face down and looked at the ground. Shit, she kept fucking this up. “I-I didn’t really know what you liked, and I thought beer would’ve been too obvious, and— and well, I think quartz is kinda pretty, so I— well, I thought— sorry.”

The farmer quickly turned on her heel and left, keeping her head low as the rain picked up.

~*~*~*~*~

Shane felt his stomach drop as he watched the farmer turn quickly away from him and disappear into the quickening rain. He was such a fucking asshole. He looked down at the quartz in his hand. It was pointy and dirty, the crystals a muddy shade of white that reminded him of curdled milk. He really did hate it. Shane never saw the appeal to gems – they were really just brightly colored rocks, nothing special if you thought about it – but (Y/N) didn’t know that. She’d bought this stupid piece of dirt for him because she thought he’d like it, and he just threw it back in her face like an ungrateful bastard. It would’ve been kinder if he’d spat in her face and pushed her in the river. Fuck. 

Shane shoved the stupid rock into his pocket and walked home slowly, allowing himself to get thoroughly soaked by the rain as punishment. He deserved it.

Marnie immediately went to fuss over how wet Shane was when he walked through the front door, but he just shrugged her off and went to his room. He threw the quartz on his dresser, quick to be rid of it. He sighed and started to change into dry clothes. Normally, he’d go straight from work to the saloon, but Marnie and Jas had planned a dinner for his birthday, and he wasn’t about to disappoint them again. As he pulled on sweatpants, not planning on leaving the house again, he looked at the quartz on his dresser. He promised himself he’d be good for Jas tonight, but he was in a weird mood now. 

He glared at the gem, wishing he could stare it down until it withered away and fled, like he did to everything else that bothered him. He hated that stupid farmer. She was too nice.

Shane struggled to keep the farmer’s disappointed face out of his thoughts. Jas didn’t notice, she was just happy to be able to play with Shane. She gave him a flower she’d found in the park the day before, and Shane was able to bite back a scathing review this time. He wasn’t so evil that’d he’d crush Jas’s little heart, too. Marnie’s gift was simply a homemade pizza, but that was enough for Shane. She looked slightly less worried about him than normal, which was a gift in and of itself. For a few hours, he allowed himself to relax. To smile. 

Then the night was over and he returned to his dark room. He stared at the quartz on his dresser as he drifted off to sleep, struggling to keep a confused, conflicting feeling from bubbling into his consciousness. Whatever feelings she was making him feel, he didn’t want to think about it…

_  
He sniffs the air, nose wet with perspiration. Grass, water, wood under foot as he paces through the forest. Stomach filled, but not full. Tongue dry. He trots across the water and stands before his prey._

_A woman, bathed in moonlight. She stands with stars in her hand, something strange and metal that reflects the moonlight in ways that hurt his eyes. He smells salt. Fish. Blood. Tears._

_Fear._

_She’s familiar, but he doesn’t know why. He takes his time with her, toying with her, teasing her. He likes how she shivers against his gaze. He curls his lips back in a grin. Her eyes widen, big and doe-like, and she drops her stars and runs._

_He lunges forward, not at her calves but at the fish splayed across the grass. He rips and tears at the slimy flesh, lapping at the cold salty blood. He’s cold. The liquid sits in his belly like hardening wax._

_He pushed his forearms into the ground, pushing, forcing, until he pushed through the hard earth into something soft and warm. He instinctively bites down. His fangs sink into warm flesh, the blood pulsing around his lips, coursing out of her veins down his throat. He rips out her throat. Lashing his head, he lunges for her body again. He rips at her chest, at her breasts; holds her arms down with human hands as he eats from her heart._

_Eyes. He sees her eyes, again. Big and beautiful and terrified._

_She’s scared._

_The wax in Shane’s stomach begins to boil. It burns his throat on its way out, dissolving his cells into a disgusting puddle of bile and blood. His stomach burns. It’s acidic and painful and—_

Shane jolted awake. His hand instinctively went to hold his mouth closed as he vomited. He somehow managed to keep it all in until he got to the kitchen sink. He coughed it out, quickly turning on the faucet to wash it down the drain. Shane’s head was pounding. He leaned against the sink, gripping his head and closing his eyes. He felt another wave of nausea overtake him, and he vomited again. He coughed after, trying to catch his breath. 

Fucking nightmares. 

Shane let the faucet run as he shuffled across the kitchen to open a window. It was barely dawn, the sky still peppered with stars. At least it wasn’t raining. When he turned to check the time, he saw Marnie standing in the kitchen doorway, drowsy and confused. 

“Shane? Is everything okay? I heard coughing.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a bit sick.”

Marnie sniffed and scrunched her nose. She narrowed her eyes at him, and her voice dropped a level. “I thought you said you weren’t going to drink last night.”

Shane glared at her. “I didn’t.” 

He grabbed bleach from under the sink and moved to clean his mess, irritated by Marnie’s accusation. She was still looking at him, arms crossed disapprovingly. 

“I have food poisoning, alright!” Shane eventually hissed, anxious under her stare. Her posture immediately softened, and she returned to her normal, motherly self, her voice returning to its typical high-octave singsong.

“Oh, goodness, was it my cooking? I’m so sorry, Shane, I thought I cooked everything right, but I could’ve—”

Shane waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, it was nausea. Headaches. I don’t know. Definitely wasn’t the pizza, don’t worry.” 

He tried to smile with his last sentence, but it probably looked more like a grimace. Marnie smiled in return, though, and eventually went back to bed after Shane insisted that he was fine. He felt drained and dizzy, but the nausea had subsided. He looked into the now bleached sink, holding his head in his hands as the images from his nightmare returned.

That was the fifth time he’d had that dream since the last full moon, and each time it got more violent and more… Freudian. Shane couldn’t understand why he kept remembering her. He’d never been able to remember such specific details from full moons, before. It had always been glimpses of images, or the aftermath of intense emotions, but never something so undeniably haunting as the farmer. He wondered why he held himself back each time he saw her. It wasn’t like his wolf was intimidated by her. Bathed in the moonlight, she looked small and scared and so, so beautiful. 

Shane opened his eyes. ‘Scared’ and ‘beautiful’ should not be words he ever, ever uses in the same sentence together again. Especially not about (Y/N). 

~*~*~*~*~

When Shane arrived with Marnie and Jas to the Flower Dance, he immediately bee-lined to the buffet table. Jas followed him at first, but quickly ditched him once Vincent arrived. Shane didn’t blame her. He worked on stacking his plate high, making sure to get the good and spicy stuff before Clint showed up.

“So, what’s good to eat here?” a voice chirped from behind Shane.

“Hm, the egg salad is okay if you like the taste of rotten water, but whatever this green sauce is, it’s the bomb,” Shane replied lazily in between bites. “Nice and spicy.”

The voice giggled. Oh God, he knew that laugh. Shane turned to see it was (Y/N), the damn farmer girl that plagued his days and nights. 

“How spicy are were talking?” she asked with a glimmer in her eye.

“Buh…” Shane hated how sweet her smile was. He actually looked at her, now, and had trouble forming a sentence. It was the first time he’d seen her since his birthday, and he wished he could look away. (Y/N) had done herself up in a full face of makeup – it was simple, but noticeable, and complimented all the right parts of her face. Her hair was braided around her head in some sort of weird crown that made her hair fall in pleats and looked impossibly complicated. Her dress was the real showstopper. It was thin, short, and low-cut, hugging her waist but letting loose at the hips, the dark flower pattern slimming her out even more. It wasn’t immodest, but it was undeniably pretty. She was pretty.

(Y/N) made a noise. Shane ripped his eyes away from her skirt and to her face. He had been staring again. And she looked very uncomfortable. 

“Hot,” he blurted out.

“…What?”

“The food! It’s hot. The, uh, sauce I mean. It’s very hot. Like, spicy hot, not the other kind of hot. Or the third kind. Obviously.”

She made a face, pity mixed with what was her probably cringing. Shane wanted to crawl into a hole and decompose. But then she sighed and just smiled. “I’ll just stick to the carrot cake, then.”

“Really? At 10 in the morning?” 

The farmer smirked. “It is never too early to have carrot cake!” Then her face softened, and she looked at Shane with something else in her eyes. “It’s good to see you, again, Shane.” 

And with that she left, skirt swaying with her butt as she walked away.

Shane let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Why was he either a douchebag mute or a blabbering idiot whenever he spoke to this woman?

He heard a sigh across the buffet table and looked up to see Clint. “Welcome to the club, buddy,” Clint said with a sad chuckle. Shane glared at him and huffed away to find a spot far, far away from other people.

Shane stuffed his face with cheesy cauliflower as he watched the townsfolk mingle. He wasn’t completely hidden from view, Jas had come up to him a couple of times to either ask him for more sweets (the answer was always “no”) or give him some flower she’d found on the ground. Emily stopped by to chat, but it was brief and tense. For the first time in a few years, Shane declined her invitation to be her dance partner. She seemed disappointed, but Shane was in no mood to tolerate her antics. His head was swarming with thoughts of the farmer. The indulgent daydreams would go too far and be intruded upon by violent images, jarring Shane back to reality. But then his mind would wander again, and the trend would repeat. 

Otherwise, for an hour or so, he was ignored. That was fine. That was what he wanted, after all. To be ignored. The day was beautiful and sunny and full of life and energy. Shane hated it. 

And then the farmer girl walked up to him, just to make him even more miserable. She smiled and asked to join him. If Shane opened his mouth, he’d probably say something stupid again, so he just grunted and let her sit down in the grass next to him. She folded her legs underneath her, pointed to the side so her knees just barely brushed against Shane’s. It was meant to keep her short skirt from exposing her, but the small and unintentional moment of physical contact made Shane shiver just the slightest.

“So, how’s your, uh…” she started, glancing around Shane’s half-finished plate of food, “mac and cheese?”

“Cheesy cauliflower.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah.” 

Shane hated this. He wished he could just tell her off, but something always kept him from being a full blown asshole to her. It wasn’t her, necessarily, it was just… every time he looked into her eyes, he was reminded of all those nights he’d encountered her. Of how scared and small and frail and beautiful she looked bathed under the moonlight. Shane had wanted her. There’d been nothing stopping him from sinking his teeth into her and making her his. An evil stare and a growl were enough to scare her off on the last full moon. If only he could scare her off like that right now.

“…you know what I mean?”

Shane snapped out of his memory. “What?”

“This festival is really pretty and all, but it kind of reminds me of that horror movie that came out a few years ago. You know, the one about the summer festival or whatever?”

Shane looked at (Y/N) with deadpan confusion. “What… are you talking about?”

“You know, the one with the cult, and the sacrifices?” (Y/N) laughed sheepishly and played with her skirt. “It’s a pretty fucked up movie, actually. I guess you’re not a horror movie guy?”

“No.”

“That’s probably for the best. I wouldn’t want to ruin your festival for you by comparing it to a sacrificial cult.” She chuckled really awkwardly, and when Shane didn’t respond, she plowed on, voice pitching slightly. “I guess it’s actually a pretty rude thing to say, huh? I just don’t really know what jokes fly down here in the Valley, you know? Not that that was a very funny joke, now that I think about it. Or maybe you’ve never been to the city. Not that Pelican Town isn’t nice…!”

She kept blabbering on through Shane’s silence, digging herself a deeper hole of self-inflicted embarrassment. 

“Why are you talking to me?” Shane cut her off, saving herself from further embarrassment.

“O-oh, well…” the farmer paused. “Everyone else seemed to have someone to talk to. I felt weird interjecting, so I thought I’d say hi to you.”

Ah, he was the last pick. Classic.

Another awkward silence ensued. Shane couldn’t help but look over at the farmer every few minutes. On his third or fourth glance, he finally noticed something to start a conversation with.

“Why’d you bring your axe?” Shane scoffed.

The farmer looked surprised and muttered some weird response about wood and animals Shane couldn’t quite catch. He couldn’t help but snicker at her mannerisms. She was a lot more awkward than her initial introduction to the town had implied, and very expressive. If her emotions weren’t betrayed by her eyebrows quirking in every subtle direction, then it was her fluttering eyelashes or her giggling mouth or her squirming arms. She wore her heart on every part of her body.

The farmer trailed off. Then, she took a deep breath and turned her body to Shane, looking him right in the eye. His heart jumped.

“Okay, so try to take me seriously for a minute here,” she said. There was a pleading look in her eyes that made them shimmer in the sunlight.

“…Okay?”

“A couple weeks ago, I was out in Cindersap Woods really late at night. I was nightfishing, but then I got lost on my way home, which normally isn’t the worst thing in the world, right? But- But then—” she looked down and took in a breath, “—then this big wolf thing jumped out of the woods and nearly killed me. Or at least I think it was a wolf. It was fucking enormous, so at first I thought it was a bear, or like a mountain lion or something, but then I realized there aren’t any mountain lions on the Gem Coast, and it just looked _different_ from a bear, you know? A-and so I ran, and I got home safely, it didn’t follow me or anything. But I’m—I’m really scared now. This is my first time back in Cindersap in like, two weeks. 

“And so,” she picked up her copper axe and lifted it proudly, “I brought my axe just in case!”

Shane was rigid. He’d snapped his plastic fork about halfway through her speech, clutching the pieces in a shaking fist. His eyes were wide and intense, and he found himself staring directly into her eyes, searching her face for anything else she may know, any knowledge she may be hiding from him, but all he saw was fear. And doubt, the longer he stared at her. Shane’s throat was tight and dry, and all he was able to manage was a strained “huh” before ripping his eyes away from her at staring ahead at the festival.

“I _knew_ you wouldn’t believe me,” (Y/N) sighed, her voice dejected and exasperated. “I figured no one would. When I asked my friends, they said there are no large predators in the area, and the library was no help either. I was afraid that if I asked too many people, they’d think I was crazy. I mean, apparently there are black bears sometimes, but…” her voice got small. “I know what I saw. And it wasn’t a bear.”

Shane had to say something. He could practically hear her shaking next to him. 

“You’re right,” he finally managed.

The farmer looked up at him. “What?”

“I’ve lived in this forest for a while now, and I know it pretty well. It’s mostly harmless, but… yeah, dangerous things come out at night. It was pretty damn stupid to get lost like that, anyway. You could’ve fallen off a cliff and no one would have even known.”

She scoffed. “Gee, thanks for the reassuring words.”

Shane grimaced, then forced it into a smile. Her looked at her with all the sincerity he could muster and said, “But you don’t have anything to worry about that during the daytime. The forest is completely safe as long as the sun is up, guaranteed.”

(Y/N) smiled and thanked him. Shane could see the tension leave her shoulders as she sighed in relief. At least now he knew she didn’t suspect him at all. Silence fell upon them again, but it was less awkward this time.

Curiosity itched at Shane. _Don’t you dare,_ the voice in his head threatened. _Don’t you dare have a conversation with this girl._ But as Shane looked into her smiling eyes, he couldn’t help himself.

“So, horror movies, huh?”

The farmer rolled her eyes, bashful. “Yeah, I mean… I watch other things too, but horror movies are my favorite.” 

“You don’t seem like you’d like that kind of stuff.”

“Why, cuz I’m _bubbly_?” she teased, leaning in closer to Shane with a playful grin. 

“Well, yeah!” Shane laughed, nudging her away. He tried not to savor the brief contact of their shoulders. “It’s creepy. I don’t get the appeal.”

(Y/N) shrugged, her face lighting up as she seized the opportunity to explain. Gesturing with her hands, as if that would help anything, she said, “It’s the _emotion_ of it, you know? Like being able to safely experience something dangerous and thrilling is exciting. Romances and comedies come close, but it’s the tension, the anxiety, the fear… when horror movies are good, they’re _really_ good.”

Shane raised his eyebrows. “And you like that?”

“Well, in the moment I do. I like psychological thrillers the most. It’s sort of like vicariously ripping open your soul and figuring out your own human nature for 90 minutes. When it’s done right, it’s like, painfully amazing.”

“Sounds like you’re a bit of a masochist,” Shane scoffed, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.

Their eyes widened. Shane realized what he just said and he quickly looked away, heat creeping up his neck. He wished Yoba would just strike him down already and end his misery. When he finally got the courage to look back at (Y/N), she was glancing between his face and the ground, face red. But she was smiling like he’d caught her in a lie, and Shane wanted to die even more. That smile confirmed everything. 

Shane was going to have such terrible, dirty dreams tonight.

“So… have you ever danced before?” (Y/N) asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

“In general? Yeah. Specifically here? Only a few times.”

“Would you like to be my dance partner?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The farmer girl plopped her head in her hand and leaned against her knee. “I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

Soon after, Lewis announced the dancing would start. They watched in silence. When the dance ended, Shane excused himself before (Y/N) had a chance to rope him back into a conversation and found Jas and Marnie. He didn’t look back at the farmer. He didn’t want to know what emotion her eyes would betray this time.

~*~*~*~*~

“Uncle Shane, why didn’t you dance this year?” Jas asked on their walk back home. It was late, but as the year entered summer, the sun was only just beginning to set.

“No one asked me.”

“Really?” Marnie interjected. “I thought I saw farmer (Y/N) with you? You two were talking for quite a while.”

Shane didn’t look at her, but he could still hear the wink in her voice. He glared ahead.

“Yeah, she was pretty annoying. Wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Maybe she likes you!” Jas peeped, looking up and Shane and smiling brightly. Shane’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Why would she like _me_?”

“Because you’re nice and funny and my godfather.” 

God, Jas was so sweet it made Shane want to vomit. In a good way, of course. But she probably didn’t mean ‘like’ the way Shane thought at first, so he just grumbled to himself and held onto Jas’s hand a little tighter. 

But Marnie giggled. Ugh, here we go. 

“Exactly, Jas! Why else would she have dressed up so beautiful today and only talk to Shane?” Shane whipped his head around to glare at his aunt, who was wearing a mischievous smirk. “You two looked like you had fun. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you laugh like that.”

Shane glared at Marnie hard, his face uncomfortably hot now, but she just laughed. Jas ate it all up, giggling and rambling on about Shane and the pretty farmer to the north. The two females teased him all the way home. The moment he stepped in the front door he tore off his stupid spring suit, took a long, _cold_ shower, and holed himself up in his room with a 6 pack of beer. Anything to stop him from thinking about what a terrible day he just had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh i'd like to say a couple things about the setting that might not be clear in the story.  
> 1\. the farm i'm referencing is the fishing farm, because that's the one im playing with right now and it's the one im most familar with. so when they reference her 'island chain' farm, just think of the riverland farm!  
> 2\. i did some math to stretch out the calendar of sdv to match our own. you can reference it here (https://www.reddit.com/r/StardewValley/comments/hvj9t9/calendar_dates_converted_to_gregorian_calendar/)  
> the reason i did that is so that the full moon cycle makes sense in the context of the story. it also helps me pace the story. so spring is three months long just like irl! so for context shane's birthday is about may 24th ;)
> 
> please leaves comments if you're enjoying the story! i really appreciate feedback since this is my first fic


	5. It Gets Worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has both more descriptions of gore and also mild nsfw descriptions. it's a bit of a wild ride hehe

It was early evening when Shane settled at the edge of the pier with a six pack of beer and a heavy heart. Shane embraced the bitter taste of his first beer. He didn’t need help in finding ways to spiral down, but Yoba gave him the farmer just to make his life even harder. He hated what (Y/N) was doing to him.

He had to get rid of her. Getting close was a dangerous mistake that would end with her dying. He knew it. It was inevitable. 

_And yet…_

Shane sighed. God, he was getting too invested in her. It didn’t help that he couldn’t commit to being an asshole around her. He had no problem being a dick to anyone who tried to get close to him. Emily, Sam, Leah, even Marnie to an extent; anyone who’d tried to be friends with him when he first moved to town got the immediate Asshole treatment. But when he was rude to (Y/N), he would always backtrack just to see her smile again. Being around the farmer made him _happy_ and he didn’t _like_ it. 

Shane finished off his first beer and moved onto his second. (Y/N) was enchanting, beautiful, awkward in the most endearing way. She was much more than just his ‘type’; she was out of his league. 

She just _had_ to move into that old farm, his go-to spot on every full moon since moving to Pelican Town. He just had to run into her on every full moon after that. And he just _had_ to be falling in love with her. Yoba must’ve been some sick fuck being this cruel to Shane.

Shane was halfway through his second beer, sinking lower and lower into the abyss, when he heard footsteps upon the pier. They didn’t belong to Marnie or Jas, so Shane turned to see who it was. It was (Y/N), dressed in work clothes and wearing a hesitant smile on her face.

Yeah, Yoba was a sick god.

“Hey, Shane,” the farmer smiled as she approached him. “What’s up?”

“Buh… You know, life.”

(Y/N) was just behind him now, standing over him. “Yeah, I feel that. I lost some stuff out here a few weeks ago and thought I might get them back before the sun sets. But before that, do you… mind if I join you?”

Yes. Shane was beyond irritated, every hair on his body standing up in the warm spring air. But if this girl was going to be the death of him, he might as well get it over with.

“No, go ahead.”

(Y/N) grinned and sat down next to him, a comfortable arm’s length away. Shane pushed the pack of beers toward her and looked out across the water. The sky was still blue, but the sun had disappeared somewhere behind a cloud, making the evening light dim. Stray fireflies flickered across the water of the lake, signaling the ending of spring and beginning of summer. Shane tried to focus on how peaceful the setting was, and not on the overwhelming dread bubbling up inside him.

“Do you…” Shane mumbled, but stopped. No, this was a bad idea. But he caught the farmer’s attention, and now she was looking at him, waiting for him to continue. Shane sighed. “Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a hole? And that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always going to be stuck there? It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re just… always going to hurt the people who care about you. You’re always going to hurt the people who try to help. And no matter how I look at it, there’s just nothing I can do about it. Nothing at all.”

The farmer was silent. Shane deflated even further and chugged from his beer, keeping his eyes fixed on the water. 

“Yeah, I do,” she eventually whispered. “I’ve been there before. At least, I’ve been somewhere similar. It was a rough time, but I got through it. And you will, too.” Shane could hear the pitying smile in her voice and refused to look at her.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me, you know,” Shane snapped. “I’m kind of an asshole, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“Oh, I know,” (Y/N) hummed. “I’m very aware of your less-than-pleasant disposition.”

Shane finally turned to look at her, genuinely confused. “Then _why_ do you keep trying to be friends with me?”

The farmer’s expression was hard to read. She looked sad, maybe, her eyes zoned out and downcast. 

“I guess… I see a little bit of myself in you.”

Shane’s mind skipped a circuit. He didn’t like that. 

But before he had time to think about it, (Y/N) cracked open the beer she’d been holding and tipped it back, chugging down as much as she could before she started coughing. Despite his overcast mood, Shane couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He patted her back, maybe a bit too roughly, as her coughing fit devolved into laughter.

“Beer is so gross…” she spluttered between coughs and laughs. She was hiding her smile behind her hand, her face red from coughing.

“I’m flattered you’d try to match my tempo, kid,” Shane laughed. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”

Her eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to say that. Shane retracted his hand and moved to get another beer.

“You shouldn’t try, though. You’ve got your whole life ahead of ya.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Please, I’m not that young.”

“How old are you?”

“22. 23 in the summer.”

That wasn’t as bad as Shane had first assumed. He thought she was 19 or 20 when he first met her. 23 was still bordering on ‘too young’ for his tastes, though.

“How old are _you?”_ (Y/N) asked with a playful lilt to her voice.

“28.” 

(Y/N) scoffed again. “That’s not _that_ old. Besides, I’ve always been into older guys anyway.”

Shane stiffened and (Y/N) sucked in a breath. Then she grabbed another beer and started to knock that one back, too. They sat in an awkward silence as Shane fixated on what she might’ve meant by that. The implications of (Y/N) being into older men was… wow. Shane finished his drink and tried to keep his heart from bursting.

“I don’t like beer,” she finally stated. “I’d rather just do shots of vodka to get drunk.”

“I don’t think you understand the point of beer.” 

“Well, what’s the point of drinking if you’re not going to get drunk?”

Shane shrugged. “To take the edge off? To help you forget? Getting wasted isn’t always the goal. Sometimes that just makes it worse.”

The farmer hummed in response. When Shane glanced back at her, she looked pensive. 

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Shane mumbled. “You’ll hurt yourself.” 

(Y/N) lightly smacked his arm and made an indignant noise. “I can’t help but think about it. All I do is overthink shit. My brain hates me like that.”

Now Shane was the one to be pensive. He supposed it made sense, but… she didn’t normally strike him as the overthinking type. If anything, she seemed to speak _before_ thinking nine out of ten times. But maybe he read her wrong.

“Wait, are you actually drunk right now?” Shane was decently tipsy himself, but had only just noticed the farmer swaying where she sat, her legs kicking back and forth energetically under the dock.

“Pshhh, no,” she said unconvincingly, not meeting his eye.

“Kid, you really shouldn’t try to keep up with my pace,” Shane scoffed, bordering between a lecturing and a mocking tone. “Especially if you’re this much of a lightweight.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Okay, _dad,_ whatever you say.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t act like one,” she mocked back, leaning toward him and sticking her tongue out. 

Shane’s heart fluttered. Encouraged by the beer, he leaned down to her as well, their faces only inches apart. He couldn’t think of anything smart to say, so he stared into her eyes instead. (Y/N) held his gaze for as long as she could, and he ate it up. Her eyes were dilated and lidded, making it hard to make out their color in the dim evening light. Shane glanced around the rest of her face, taking in the shape of her eyebrows and the flush of her cheeks and the red of her lips. He could smell her clearly, now. She smelled of beer, obviously, but also of grass and sweat and dirt and something very uniquely _her._ At this distance, he could almost hear her heartbeat. It was beating as fast as his was, if not faster.

And then she broke eye contact, like they all did. She sucked in a breath and finished off her beer, her face a deep shade of pink. Shane smirked at his victory, finishing his as well. (Y/N) moved to grab the last beer, but Shane stopped her.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“Awww, you’re no fun,” she whined, making Shane laugh. Her blush deepened. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“You make it too easy!”

(Y/N) growled in mock frustration, kicking her legs out like a child throwing a tantrum. She really wasn’t doing much to help her ‘not that young’ argument. But she dropped the act quickly and shared a long smile with Shane. Her eyes drifted down his face for a moment, lingering along his jaw, before they suddenly widened and snapped back up to his eyes. 

“Oh my gosh!” (Y/N) grabbed Shane’s arm and leaned into him. “I forgot I was supposed to find my fishing gear! I know it’s somewhere in the woods, but it’s getting dark and I know you said that I’d be fine in the woods but not when it’s dark, and all I have is the light of my phone but these woods are huge and kinda scary so can you help me find my stuff pretty please, Shane?”

Shane blinked.

“Buh… sure?”

“Thank you!” (Y/N) squeezed his arm and smiled, and then stood. Shane quickly stood with her when he noticed how much she swayed. He held her arm lightly, and she grabbed his forearm back as she regained balance. He loved the way she looked when her eyes fluttered open and closed. He tried to memorize exactly how her calloused fingers felt against his skin, the way her fingertips brushed against his hairs, and how her nails dug slightly into his skin. He wanted her nails to dig in deeper. In much more intimate parts of his body. (Y/N) shared his look and stood there watching him, eyes bright and face pink.

Shane was staring again. He let go and quickly bent over to collect his trash. Shane crumpled an empty beer can and tossed it in the lake. (Y/N) gasped loudly and smacked his arm, _hard._

“Don’t _fucking_ litter!” she shouted and continued to hit him. 

“Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t thinking, okay— ow!”

Shane grabbed her wrist, holding it tight. (Y/N)’s pulse hammered against his thumb. She was breathing hard and staring him down, her eyes filled with some intense emotion that made Shane’s body go aflame. They were closer than they’d ever been before, and he had to restrain himself from stepping closer.

Fuck, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

Shane let go of her hand and laughed under his breath and he bent to pick up the rest of the cans. His life must’ve been some sort of cruel comedy created for the gods’ entertainment. The farmer bent over and helped him clean up, throwing their trash into her backpack. Shane put the last beer in his sweatshirt pocket as they walked off the pier together.

They were silent as they walked along the edge of the lake. Shane couldn’t make sense of what was happening. So many conflicting emotions were swirling around that it made it hard to form coherent thoughts. The depression still tugged at his heart, but (Y/N)’s presence made him feel like he was going to fly away at any moment. He was also feeling waved of tightness in his pants, which didn’t help anything. 

Shane glanced up at the treetops, the old wizard’s tower catching his eye. Shane instinctively pulled (Y/N) closer to him, his anxiety heightening.

“That tower gives me the creeps,” he mumbled out an explanation.

(Y/N) turned to where he was looking and just laughed. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about the wizard, he’s not that bad.”

Shane looked down at (Y/N) with a confused, scathing expression. “What, like you’ve had tea with the guy?”

“Well, yeah!” she said with a grin, swaying closer into Shane’s body as she walked. “I mean, sorta. I think he gave me some sort of magic mushroom smoothie, cuz I was _tripping_ out, but now I can talk to the junimos so it’s all good.”

“…Should I be worried?”

(Y/N) giggled in response, her nose scrunching up with amusement. “Nahh, I’m fine. He’s trying to teach me magic, but I’m not very good. I feel like he should’ve chosen Abigail, she’s way more into this occult stuff than I am.”

Shane didn’t know what else to do other than chuckle and shake his head. “You’re weird.”

The farmer nudged him with her shoulder. “So are you.”

(Y/N) was leaning against him now, holding Shane’s bicep between her arms. She was stumbling, but not enough to need to hold his arm like that. Shane had to keep his eyes peeled to the sky to keep himself from overthinking it. She was drunk, that was all. Drunk girls did stupid touchy stuff like this all the time. But her touch still made Shane’s heart tighten and his body get hot. It was hard to ignore how blatantly romantic it was, (Y/N) on his arm as they walked through the forest, the sun setting fast.

(Y/N) shivered. “Should we be worried about the sun setting?”

“No, we’ll be fine.”

“But you said the forest gets dangerous at night?”

“Yeah, well…” Shane hummed in amusement. “You don’t have to worry about that with me around.”

The farmer scoffed and nudged his side, making him squirm. Ticklish. “Whatever you say, tough guy.”

They walked in silence for a bit longer. Shane hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart in the silence. Eventually, the farmer hummed in thought. 

“Yeah, I like — sorry, I’m still thinking about the wizard, and I just — I don’t get why he’s training me. I didn’t really ask to be his apprentice, and I can’t really conjure anything useful. I can see the forest spirits, though, which is pretty cool. And I have this magic mermaid sword that I have this weird connection with. You know, maybe I need to focus more on combat magic? All we’ve been trying so far is like, communing with the spirits and I just find it so boring.”

“I really can’t tell if you’re being serious or not,” Shane deadpanned.

“I am being,” (Y/N) widened her eyes and pulled her mouth into a straight line, almost like she was imitating a fish, _“100 percent. Completely. Serious.”_

Shane laughed, making her whine and start up more dramatics. “You’re so weird.”

"I am not! I mean, I’m not that weird. I mean— stop laughing! Ughhhh, maybe I am kinda weird. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to make friends here.”

Shane shrugged and tried to sober up his amusement. "I wouldn’t worry about that too much. People here just don't trust outsiders, especially city folk. You're a good weird, anyway."

“Yeah, well—” (Y/N) cut herself off with a gasp. “Oh shit, is that my stuff?”

The farmer broke away from Shane. His heart jumped when she ran across the simple plank bridges to hop from one island to the next. Shane jogged after her, shouting at her to be careful. He didn’t trust either of their swimming abilities, should she fall in like a drunk idiot.

(Y/N) halted in front of what looked like a pile of trash. As Shane got closer, he understood her sudden silence.

Her things had been torn to shreds. What had once been a medium-sized cooler, a bright white-and-blue thing to hold beers or, in this case, fish, had been torn apart. Large teeth marks had gouged through the thick plastic, which was now scattered in pieces across the clearing, the ragged and sharp edges coated in dark brown. It smelled like dried blood and some sort of coolant chemical. Fish bones were splayed about the grass, the flesh having long since been devoured by insects, but the slimy trail of their insides had still stained the grass in the area a shade darker than the rest. The fishing pole lay tangled in a nearby bush, the rod bent in several places. 

Shane couldn't breathe.

The farmer sighed. 

"Damn, I wanted to use this stuff tomorrow." She tried to be humorous, but her voice came out breathy and tense. "I hoped the cooler would at least be good."

Shane couldn't respond. His esophagus had restricted to near-lethal levels, only allowing the faintest of breaths to escape. The blood drained from his fingers up through his shoulders. His face tingled. His fingers quivered. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. This was him.

He did this.

And he nearly did this to _her._

(Y/N) tapped his arm, snapping Shane back to reality. Her things were gathered in her arms, and she looked expectantly up at Shane.

"Hey, you good?"

Shane grimaced and cleared his throat, nodding stiffly. Luckily, (Y/N) accepted that as an answer. She turned to leave, waiting for Shane to follow, and they walked back through the woods in silence.

This time, it was Shane who stumbled through the woods. He stood apart from (Y/N), an arm's length or more, but every few minutes she'd look over her shoulder at him in concern. Shane was stoic. He had to keep this panic down, had to keep himself under control. Beer helped numb the pain, but made suppressing panic so, so much harder. He was disassociating again and _fuck_ he couldn’t do anything about it.

Only a bit further till she would leave his side. Only a bit longer till he could collapse inside his room. When they finally made it to the crossroads between (Y/N)'s farm and Marnie's ranch, the farmer meekly thanked Shane before saying a quiet farewell, plodding up to her farm in the deepening darkness. If Shane hadn’t been losing his mind, he might've walked her home.

But he didn't. He hurried back to Marnie's and locked himself inside his room and held a pillow to his face as he tried to steady his breathing. 

Cruel images of what he could've done to (Y/N) flooded through Shane's mind. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off this barrage of intrusive thoughts tonight. His mind fixated on terrible things of mutilation and gore. Flashes of neon red blood overwhelmed Shane’s mind. Skin shredded open. Muscles flayed like steak. The pulsing throb of an open body hemorrhaging blood in a futile attempt to stay alive. The eyes. The eyes that screamed when there was no voice left. Faces flashed through Shane’s mind — his cousin, his girlfriend, Jas, (Y/N) — their bodies torn to pieces. Shane didn't know which were memories and which were figments of his imagination, but as they twisted themselves around in his head, Shane didn't know what else to do but cry.

~*~*~*~*~

Shane spent his Saturday morning cooped up with the chickens, trying to force himself out of this depressive episode. It was starting to get Jas down, which was no good. He sat in the corner of the coop, back pressed against the wall and legs splayed out in front of him in the hay. Charlie was nestled in his arms half-asleep, the rest of the chickens poking and clucking around brainlessly. His blue hens were still a work in progress, but Shane's dabbling in breeding was turning out to be a rather fun way to keep his mind occupied on something productive. 

He needed something productive. Work was a mindless joke that sucked out most of his motivation to do anything. Shane only went to the saloon to get drunk so he wouldn't do anything stupid, especially on bad days. As much as he hated the people of this small shitty town, their presence held him accountable. Kept him from making a total ass of himself, or worse.

Except the farmer. Shane didn't hate her. No, not by any means. He was completely obsessed with her, maybe even infatuated. If he wasn't thinking about how terrible his life was, he was thinking about her. He thought about the way her eyes got this nervous sparkle when she looked at him, the way she smiled brighter when talking to him, the way her fingers brushed against his skin, the way she talked, the way she moved. Her smell lingered everywhere, now, having mixed in with the rest of the town. It was no longer unique, no longer stuck out to Shane when he was out and about. It made it hard for him to know when she was around, since he hadn't quite learned the sound of her footsteps, yet. 

That was how she snuck up on him the other night on the pier. That girl had been everywhere in town, so her ghost lingered everywhere, even in the forest. It was like she was haunting him. That was probably why he couldn't stop thinking about her, even when he told himself to stop.

Normally, he'd force his mind elsewhere, but here, in the safety of his chicken coop, away from the rest of the world, Shane let his daydream continue. He sat back and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wooden panels as his mind wandered back to (Y/N).

Shane wondered how differently the other night could've gone, unless it had been doomed from the start. If he had kissed her like he knew she wanted instead of pussying out, maybe things would’ve been different. Or at least, Shane hoped she wanted him. He could be reading the signs wrong, but he was pretty sure she was flirting with him. Very awkwardly, but still. He didn't know _why,_ considering how fat and lame and rude he was. 5 years ago, before all this werewolf shit happened? Sure, maybe. Shane could see why she'd want that. But now? She probably just felt sorry for him.

That thought made Shane uneasy. He hugged Charlie tighter and tried to force down his insecurities. Right now, he just wanted to think about (Y/N) and her lips touching his.

He had so many opportunities to kiss her. The first was when she stuck her tongue out at him. It was cute and playful, and Shane should've leaned in and nipped the tip. Just a playful bite, nothing that would hurt her. But enough to make her gasp. Her mouth would open, and Shane would follow her tongue inside with his own, licking her teeth and tongue as his lips worked against hers. Her lips would be so soft and wet as she kissed him back. Her mouth would stay open and wide and inviting as their tongues danced between their lips. They'd pull each other close and Shane would push her down on the dock. He'd hover over her as he kissed down her face, her neck, pulling down her shirt to kiss lower…

Or maybe when they were standing together, her hand in his grip, her eyes practically challenging Shane to make a move. Her eyes were fierce and intense and burned their way into Shane's memory. He should have pulled her in and kissed her. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his, feel her squirm against his grip as she kissed back. Maybe he would've taken her back to his room, snuck her in through the back. Maybe he could have thrown her on his bed, relish in the sound of her giggle as he got rough with her, eat up that beautiful smile as he took off her clothes. Shane wondered what she looked like naked. He wondered if she had any blemishes, any scars. Was her skin as smooth under her clothes as it was on her arm? He wondered what her breasts would feel like in his hands, what her nipples would feel like between his lips, what she tasted like between her legs... 

Shane blinked. Then let out a shaky sigh. Fuck, he was getting carried away. He might be able to get away with a kiss, sure, but (Y/N) would never let someone like him into her bed. (Y/N) didn’t have any reason to pity-fuck him. He reminded himself where he was. The chicken coop. Sitting on the floor with a bunch of chickens, the only females that weren’t completely repulsed by him. 

Shane sniffed. (Y/N)’s scent really was everywhere. The fact that it had managed to find its way into Marnie’s back coop proved Shane’s theory that she was haunting him. She must’ve been a creation by Yoba to torment him, as if his life weren’t purgatory enough already.

He heard Marnie talking outside the coop door. Shane tilted his head back and glared at the ceiling, determined to ignore her as she walked inside.

“In here you can look at our different chickens— oh, Shane! I didn’t know you were in here!” Marnie’s voice was chipper as always. “Farmer (Y/N) is here to buy a few chicks for her farm!”

Shane turned his head on instinct. There she was, standing in the doorway, smiling nervously. (Y/N) was wearing jeans with dirty work boots, a simple flannel, her hair tied back under a baseball cap. Nothing special. So why was Shane’s heart racing?

(Y/N) gave a small wave as she entered the coop. Shane felt self-consciousness and shame creep into his face. He must’ve looked like such a loser, covered in hay and feathers, sulking with the hens. His recent indecent thoughts about (Y/N) made it hard for Shane to look at her.

Marnie walked through the clucking hens to the back of the coop where the incubators were. The farmer followed, listening intently as Marnie explained all the basics of taking care of chickens. Shane leaned his head back again and closed his eyes tight. He wanted to get away from (Y/N) but refused to be kicked out of his spot with Charlie. He was here first, goddamnit.

Footsteps approach him, light against the wooden floorboards of the coop. Must’ve been the farmer. Shane expected her to walk past him and ignore him. Instead, he heard her stop and bend down next to him.

“Now who’s this cutie?” Her voice was sunny and sharp against Shane’s ear. He willed his eyes to stay shut.

“Charlie.”

“Oh, he’s a handsome fella.” 

“She,” Shane corrected gruffly.

 _“She_ is a beautiful lady, then.”

(Y/N) moved closer to pet Charlie. Shane finally looked up at her. Her face was right next to his, the brim of her cap low on her forehead, her hair frazzled and messy. The refracted golden light inside the coop almost made her glow. She smiled down at Charlie as she pet her with the back of her fingers in gentle strokes. Shane was staring again, but (Y/N) didn’t seem to notice.

“(Y/N), I have the chicks for you!” Marnie came back from the incubator room, a cardboard box in hand. “They’re all a couple weeks old, so they should be ready to lay eggs in a little less than a month.”

(Y/N) stood to take the box, not giving Shane a second glance. She thanked Marnie, and the two women began to leave the coop. (Y/N) hesitated at the doorframe. She turned around, smiled at Shane, and said a faint “goodbye” before leaving. Marnie gave Shane a funny look before following the farmer out the door.

Shane sighed. He wasn’t going to be strong enough to push her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading again! i hope my description of shane's panic attack made sense. it's a difficult experience to capture in words so i hope it all made sense.
> 
> also i bumped up the rating


	6. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up, the first part of this chapter consists of graphic depictions of shane’s transformation from human to werewolf. if you don’t do good with body horror, feel free to skip the first section and jump straight to section two (I’ll mark it with a 2). I’m not sure what may make people uncomfortable, so I want to give everyone a proper warning before, just in case. Otherwise, please enjoy ;)

Shane had found a pretty good spot this time and couldn’t help but be proud of it. Spending the past couple afternoons in the forest instead of the saloon had yielded a promising reward: a secluded part of Cindersap no one else knew about. At least, Shane hoped no one else knew about it. If this full moon worked out for him, this could be his new spot now that the farm wasn’t an option.

The spot was a secluded grove, tucked away behind a fell tree in a far corner of Cindersap. Shane had to scramble over the giant log just to get to the place, making him out of breath and sweaty. He was disgustingly out of shape. But the tree also meant it would be unlikely for anyone in town to even know the place existed, let alone be able to follow him. He could finally rage in peace.

The sky was nearly completely obscured by leaves, the trees reaching up overhead with lush green branches. Little bugs danced around the air like fairies. There was a lake in a far corner of the clearing, and across from that, an old dwarven statue that was in surprisingly good shape. When Shane had been there during the day, the sunlight dappled through the treetops, illuminating the lush green grass in a golden glow. Now, the grove was bathed in a dark violet as dusk quickly turned to night. 

Shane emptied his backpack quickly, peeling the thawing steaks out of their plastic wraps and tossing them on the grass. He stripped nude, throwing his clothes atop his backpack. He pulled out his flask of whiskey and chugged, drowning down the anxiety rising in his throat. 

The transformation was always preceded by dread, as if every cell in his body knew something was wrong. The anticipation crept up like the ascent of a rollercoaster. Each tick upward on the track was another minute longer into the night. By the time Shane reached the top, he almost wondered if maybe, somehow, this time was different. 

But then he lurched over the edge and his transformation began.

Shane’s stomach dropped from under him as he fell to his knees. 

A violent shock of fire seared up his spine, shooting out along his nerves like the tendrils of a lightning bolt. Shane’s vision blurred and his eyes rolled back. He choked out a scream, gasping for air, his throat swelling and compressing in on itself. Shane collapsed on the grassy floor, his body shaking and convulsing as his muscles rippled under his skin like waves of insects swarming to be free. His nails ruptured from his cuticles, and with that sporting of blood, his body began to rip itself apart. 

His skin was stretched along his frame until it was ripped apart from itself, the exposed muscles growing like tumors out of the openings, then scabbing up with new, thicker skin as his body replaced his human skin with the exoskeletal hide of a beast. His human nails fell out and his bones pushed out claws; his human teeth were forced out as his jaw expanded and new canines pierced through his gums; his nose scrunched and cracked as it collapsed against his face, the cartilage growing and shrinking as his internal senses rearranged themselves. Shane’s insides cramped up as they twisted and stretched and grew and shrank inside of him. The bones in his neck cracked and stretched, finally opening his esophagus up to air. Shane hacked up blood from his straining lungs and sucked in a raspy breath before his stomach expelled its contents of blood and liquor. The burning acid coated his hands, which were stretching and cracking into hairy, twisted abominations. Shane fell to his side and clawed desperately at the ground, as if he could escape the prison of his skin. He cried; tears mixed with blood as his eyes twisted in his skull. Shane’s head lulled back as his spine snapped, and he blacked out.

~*~*~*~*~  
(2)

Shane groaned as he opened his eyes. He was dizzy, even though he was laying down. Grass poked against his skin. He was covered in sweat.

Fuuuuuuck, everything _hurt._ And worse than normal.

He pried his eyelids open against the pale grey morning light. Everything was blurry as shit. He glanced down at his body. Oh God _damn_ it all. He was covered in gashes and blood. Most of it was his own, but some of it also smelled like animal. He was still bleeding from some of the cuts, his transformation not healing all of them up. No wonder his hangover was worse than usual.

Shane forced himself to sit up. His stomach roared in pain, clenching tight in extreme hunger. Holy shit, Shane had never been this hungry before in his life. What they fuck happened last night? 

Shane closed his eyes and held his pounding head in his hands as he tried to recall the night before. There had been… slimes… okay, he knew that going into it. He clearly got in a fight, but with what? A… bear? _Bear_ seemed right, for some reason, which just made Shane groan in frustration. Did he _really_ get in a fight with a fucking _bear?_ Shane wished he had just an iota of control over the wolf. Just enough to direct its rage somewhere less dangerous.

Shane glanced down. Well, at least his dick was fine. Had to check on the little man after each full moon. A part of him always expected the wolf to rip the thing off in a fit of stupidity, and Shane didn’t trust the curse to grow back his precious cargo. 

Shane also didn’t realize his leg was hurt until he tried to stand. His left leg was throbbing with pain, red and swollen at his shin. Fuck, that looked broken. Shane cursed. The gashes were one thing, but the fucked up leg would be hard to hide.

He had to go to Harvey.

Shane groaned at the thought. Nearly five years in the valley, and Shane only had to involve the local doctor twice in his shenanigans. Both those times were when he’d first moved to Pelican Town, when the old doctor was just about to retire and didn’t give a shit about Shane’s self-destructive antics. Harvey was a worrywart and bleeding heart, though. He’d get suspicious. He was already lowkey on his case about his drinking, and this would only fuel the doctor’s self-righteous nosiness.

Shane tried to talk himself out of it as he got dressed, wearing his clothes from the day before so that his Joja uniform wouldn’t get bloodstained. But, after taking fifteen minutes trying to figure out a way to get around the giant fallen tree blocking off Cindersap and landing hard on his broken leg like a fucking idiot, Shane knew he had to go to Harvey. It took him over an hour to limp through the forest and walk as normal as he could when he entered town. 

Shane leaned heavily against the doorframe of Harvey’s clinic as he pushed a finger to the doorbell. He kept his ears pricked to the rest of the town, praying that no one else would be awake so early and see him. He could hear a distant buzzing somewhere deep in the office, maybe up in Harvey’s apartment. Shane held his finger against the ringer, listening to the buzzing drone on as he peered through the clouded glass door, waiting for Harvey to arrive. It took him 3 minutes.

Harvey was disheveled as he scurried to the door. He started to ask what the trouble was in his usual mousey voice, but Shane just brushed past him and shut the front door, pushing Harvey out of the way as he strode down the hall. Harvey chased after Shane, demanding to know what was wrong, concern lacing his tired voice as he finally saw what state Shane was in and his patience wearing thin when Shane ignored him and let himself into the back examination room.

“Harvey,” Shane turned suddenly, cutting off Harvey’s neurotic rambling. “I need you to patch me up, but you can’t tell anyone.”

“Wha– Shane, what is that supposed to mean? On the one hand, of course I wouldn’t tell anyone, I take patient confidentiality extremely seriously. But on the other hand, your current state is incredibly concerning, and as your doctor I–”

 _“Harvey,”_ Shane nearly growled, leering at Harvey with such intensity that the doctor clammed up. Even though Harvey was nearly a head taller than Shane and 8 years his senior, Shane could still intimidate the man with ease. “I can’t have people asking questions. So don’t tell _Marnie.”_

Harvey’s face shifted through three different reactions — confusion, shock, judgement — before settling on stoic professionalism. “Very well. I still want to have a word with you when I’m through, though. Now, let’s see what the damage is.”

“I need you to gimme some painkillers and splint up my leg, or somethin,” Shane muttered as Harvey ordered him to take his shirt off. Harvey’s face fell as he took in the bruises and cuts along Shane’s body.

“Dear Yoba– I’m going to have to do a lot more than that, Shane. These are serious wounds, and I think you might have some broken ribs. And you– hmm, yes, your leg looks pretty serious. I’d like to run some x-rays on you to determine if your bones are fractured, and if so, to what degree. Goodness, it almost looks like you were hit by a bus!”

Shane huffed. “Who knows.”

Harvey looked at him skeptically and paused in cleaning his wounds. _“Were_ you hit by a bus, Shane?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe. Doesn’t matter, I just need to be presentable for work. And I don’t want to be seen leaving your place by those gossipy housewives.”

“I– I can do that, but… I’m just concerned. As your doctor, of course.”

“Hmm.”

Harvey brought Shane to the x-ray machine he had standing in the corner of the examination room. He made noises of concern every few steps Shane took. Shane had to consciously bite back his irritation. The sooner he got this over with, the better. The scans only took a few minutes. Harvey looked over the results, confirming that Shane’s ribs and shin bone had been splintered, but none completely broken. 

“I’ll just need some painkillers, then,” Shane sighed.

“Um, no, Shane, you’re still going to need a cast for your leg. And you’ll need to stay off it for at least 4 weeks, but probably more. I need to put it in a cast, now, so—”

“I won’t need any of that. I heal quick.”

Harvey spluttered indignantly. “Shane, there is no possible way that you can recover from injuries this serious on your own! Especially if you continue to use them, you’re just going to make your injuries worse, and you’ll end up right back here in even more pain than you are now.”

Shane raised his eyebrows condescendingly. “Trust me, I won’t be back here.”

“I—” but Harvey cut himself off and grimaced. He finished cleaning and bandaging Shane’s cuts and bruises, layering the bandages tight on his leg. Shane could already feel the fissures on his torso closing, the cuts on his face itching as they scabbed up. At least his curse gave him scary-fast healing abilities. Practical immortality. 

Shane sighed. If only he could just kill himself and get this all over with.

Harvey patted Shane’s back, signaling he was finished, and left with his clipboard to the front desk. Shane lingered behind, taking out his work clothes from his backpack and putting them on stiffly. He was glad he only ever wore the long-sleeved Joja uniform, even though Sam usually made fun of him for it during the summer months. Shane walked slowly down the hall of the clinic, trying hard not to show his limp. 

Harvey cleared his throat nervously as Shane approached. He stuttered out something about Shane’s medical bill and an over-the-counter pain prescription as he handed the bill to Shane. Shame winced at the cost. And this was just the bare minimum of what Harvey probably should’ve done for Shane. Yikes.

“Can I, uh…” Shane glanced up at Harvey. “Can I pay this off in installments?”

Harvey failed to hide his disappointment. “Yes, that… shouldn’t be a problem. If you pay it all off within the next few months, we won’t have an issue.”

“Great.” Shane shoved the bill in his pocket and turned to leave. He hesitated at the clinic door. “Thanks, Harvey,” he mumbled before leaving the oppressive office. 

~*~*~*~*~

Harvey watched Shane as he left the clinic. The man’s broad shoulders were hunched over as he shuffled across the empty town square. He was doing a rather good job at hiding his limp, which made Harvey wonder if Shane often hid his injuries from people. And how often he got such severe injuries. And where he got them from. 

Shane was hiding something very serious, both from Harvey and, apparently, from Marnie. Harvey questioned the limit of his doctor-patient relationship with Shane. Was it inappropriate to talk to Shane further and try to encourage some less dangerous habits? Or was that invading his privacy and crossing a line of professionalism? Was it his duty as a doctor to respect his patient’s privacy, or pry deeper to prevent further self-harm? Harvey sighed and sat down in the front desk’s swivel chair, rubbing out the migraine budding in his temples. 

Harvey glanced at the clock above the door. It was a little after 8 o’clock. Too late to go back to sleep, unfortunately. Harvey sighed and shuffled back upstairs to his apartment to get dressed and put on a pot of coffee. After much mulling, he elected not to tell Maru of his eventful morning. Harvey was going to keep an eye on Shane going forward, but wanted to keep his cards close to his chest, for now. Shane clearly valued his privacy, so Harvey would try to respect it, while also making sure Shane wouldn’t arrive near-death at his doorstep any time soon.

~*~*~*~*~

It was the first week of summer, and (Y/N) had a _lot_ to do.

She realized during the spring just how hard farming was on an island chain, and just how much planning was involved. The main island to the south would become an orchard once (Y/N) had enough money to buy some saplings from Pierre. She would till farmland in any space between the barn and the future orchard and figure out the rest of the island planning in the fall. (Y/N) had decided to keep her barn animals on the main peninsula, in between her house and the run-down greenhouse. It’d be easier for her to keep them fed that way and keep an eye on them as they grew. And finally, she was in talks with a dog breeder from Grampleton who had a young Pyrenees-mix for sale. (Y/N) didn’t know much about training a working dog, but she’d pick it up quick, just like she did with farming and fishing and mining and fighting. She couldn’t get a grasp of magic, but you can’t win ‘em all, she supposed.

(Y/N) spent the first week of summer farming, throwing herself into the work. She didn’t really need to, but daily physical exhaustion did help her keep her mind off Shane. That night on the docks had been… weird. It had been over a week since it happened, but (Y/N) hadn’t seen Shane since, and so her mind was repeating it over and over and over. 

(Y/N)’d nearly kissed him, like, twice, but she couldn’t decide whether she had been motivated by genuine sexual desire or if she was just tipsy on an empty stomach. (Y/N) cursed being a horny drunk, it never got her anywhere good in life. A kiss would’ve driven him away, anyway; he was clearly going through some shit that night, and romance sex stuff would’ve messed him up, probably. She really needed to stop coming on so strong. 

And then things got _really_ weird when (Y/N) found her fishing gear. Literally, what the fuck lived in those woods? (Y/N) didn’t care how cool Shane thought he was, there was no way he could protect her against something that could rip apart of water cooler with its mouth. 

(Y/N) would be fine going back to Cindersap Woods during the day, she knew that. But she was still nervous about it. And besides, today was Jas’s birthday. (Y/N) _had_ to go to those woods to give Jas her present. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what the little girl would like — honestly, most of the birthday gifts she’d given to the locals had been shots in the dark with varying results — but (Y/N) doubted she could go wrong with flowers.

(Y/N) still felt weird walking into Marnie’s house unannounced. Sure, the house was also her place of business, but it still felt strange to not knock and be let in. When (Y/N) opened the door, Marnie was absent from her front counter. The farmer glanced into the kitchen, then at the sitting room. Empty. Maybe Jas was still in school? 

“Hello?” the farmer called out hesitantly, not wanting to stay long in an empty house. To her surprise, she heard a voice call out from behind a door. She walked into the living room, and as she did so, a door behind the fireplace opened. In the doorframe stood Jas, dressed as a princess, and she had clearly been expecting someone else.

“Where’s Aunt Marnie?” Jas demanded, as if (Y/N) had stolen Marnie away and hidden her somewhere. 

“U-uh, I’m not sure?”

“Jas,” a voice within her bedroom said quietly. “It’s rude to talk to strangers like that.”

Jas turned to the voice, her face falling. “I’m sorry Uncle Shane.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Shane’s voice responded, gentle and low. “Apologize to Miss (Y/N).”

Jas turned back to the farmer and apologized, stuttering and blushing as she did so before running back into her room. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh quietly. Jas took a lot after Shane, it seemed. 

(Y/N) walked toward the bedroom and pushed open the door, staying in the hall but poking her head inside. “May I come in, Jas? I have a birthday present for you.”

Jas perked up and ran from where she had been standing with Shane. (Y/N) glanced around the bedroom. It was excessively pink and littered with toys. The farmer’s eyes landed on Shane, who was looking at her with the most precious expression of flustered embarrassment. He was sitting in the middle of a pile of dolls, his head adorned with a fuzzy pink tiara and a pink boa scarf wrapped around his neck. (Y/N) smirked at him before turning her attention to Jas.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” (Y/N) began sweetly as she shrugged off her backpack, gently removing the small bunch of tulips she’d placed inside, “so I hope you like these.”

Jas’s face immediately lit up at the sight of the purple tulips. They weren’t much, and (Y/N) had been struggling to keep them alive as the weather got hotter, but the little girl didn’t seem to notice. 

“Th-thank you, Miss Farmer (Y/N)!” Jas squeaked as she took the flowers from (Y/N), eyes glowing.

Shane rose form his corner with a huff, grabbing the girls’ attention. “Let’s put those in water, ‘kay Jas?”

“Okay Uncle Shane!” Jas chirped before scurrying off, darting around (Y/N)’s legs to the kitchen. 

Shane stood next to (Y/N) at the door. His face was an adorable mix of bashfulness and nervousness that made (Y/N) smile. 

“So, what were you two playing? Princess?” (Y/N) teased, unable to keep her amusement hidden.

Shane chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. I was the princess, and she was the evil witch trapping me in the tower.”

“Who’s gonna save you?”

“No one, I’m supposed to turn into a swan and fly away at the end.”

“Huh, that’s different.” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at Jas’s imagination. She glanced at the scarf around his neck. Leaning closer to him, she pulled at the feathery ends, flicking them playfully between their faces. “Is that why you’re wearing this?”

Shane laughed again, the sound low and nervous. “No, Jas just likes to humiliate me whenever possible.”

Jas shouted for help in the other room. Shane mumbled under his breath as he walked past (Y/N). She followed close behind him, lingering by the kitchen doorframe as she watched Shane get a glass of water for Jas’s new flowers, placing them on the kitchen table as a centerpiece. Jas nodded in approval at its display, and then went back to her bedroom to set up for ‘Part 2’ of her epic fantasy saga. Shane lingered behind in the kitchen with (Y/N).

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Shane muttered after a moment of silence, a smile gracing his lips. He was giving the farmer a funny look, almost like he was confused, amused, and admiring her at the same time. “How’d you even know it was her birthday today?”

“I saw it on the bulletin board.”

“Buh… the what?”

“You know, the bulletin board in front of Pierre’s? Where they have a seasonal calendar with everyone’s birthdays?”

“Oh, right. I kinda forgot about that.” His eyebrows quirked. “Is that how you knew it was my birthday?”

(Y/N) groaned at the embarrassing memory. “Ugh, yeah. But I would’ve been better off just not getting you anything.”

“Hey, no, it was– well, the gift kinda sucked, yeah, but the thought was nice. You were the only–um,” Shane cleared his throat and started mumbling, ducking his head low. “It was just nice you remembered.”

(Y/N) smiled and tried not to read into his stuttering too much. Standing in front of him, now in good lighting, she noticed faint scabs across his face and tsk’ed. 

“What happened to your face? You fall through a woodchipper?”

Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, shoulders tensing. “I might as well have.”

“Well make sure to invite me next time,” (Y/N) said with a grin and a playful punch on his arm. His muscles were firmer than she expected. “I love getting rough under mysterious circumstances.”

Shane’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in bemusement, heat rising up his neck. “I don’t know what you think I got up to, but it definitely wasn’t as fun as you think it was.”

Jas’s voice called from the other room, demanding her Uncle Shane to return. 

“Guess that’s my cue,” Shane sighed, but his face was soft with amusement. (Y/N) wondered how much of his grumpy persona was just a schtick. “Thanks for coming by. It was a nice surprise.”

“Of course. And you know, you can always surprise me with your presence, should you ever be struck with the desire to hike 20 minutes up a rocky hill to my dilapidated piece of property.”

“We’ll see about that,” Shane laughed, then seemed to think about it for a moment. “Yeah, it’d be nice to see how your chickens are doing.”

(Y/N) grinned a bit too widely. “Great! Cool! I mean, I’ll be looking forward to it. Um, yeah, okay, so—” the farmer backed toward the front door nervously, stuttering like an idiot. “See ya around, Shane.”

The last thing (Y/N) saw was Shane snicker and shake his head at her before she ducked out the door and slammed it behind her. 

Phew. 

That actually went pretty well. (Y/N) smiled. Was this her first completely positive interaction with Shane? She thought it was. And for once, she didn’t ruin it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Shane studied the bulletin board for far longer than he had wanted to. It was crammed with ‘Help Wanted’ notes for some of the stupidest, most mundane shit he'd ever seen, crowding out anything that might’ve been important or useful. Fuck, no wonder he always ignored this thing.

“Looking for something?” a voice chimed over his shoulder. Shane turned to see Maru, dressed in her nurse’s uniform.

“Buh, yeah, the calendar.”

“Hmm, that should be about… here!” Maru flipped up an old flyer to expose the seasonal calendar, the next three months of summer scaled up so townsfolk could write important events on there. 

“Oh. Thanks.” Shane peered at the calendar, expecting Maru to leave.

“What are you looking for?”

Shane sighed. It was never that easy, was it? “The birthdays.”

“Oh, whose? Mine is right here,” Maru leaned in excitedly and pointed to her birthday, settled squarely in July. “Who are you looking for?”

Shane squinted. He still couldn’t find her. “(Y/N).”

Maru glanced around as well, before he eyes settled with a slight gasp. “Her birthday is on the Luau? That’s no fair! I always wished my birthday landed on the Luau growing up.”

That was why Shane couldn’t find it. The farmer’s name was written small, almost as if whoever wrote it didn’t want it to be noticed. Shane wondered if she was the one to write herself in.

“Thanks,” Shane muttered again, hoping Maru would take the hint to scram. She didn’t.

Instead, she leaned against the wall to Pierre’s shop, smiling at him conspiratorially. “Are you thinking of getting the new farmer something for her birthday?”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Shane sneered defensively, stepping away from the bulletin board. Maru huffed in annoyance and glared at Shane before finally walked away. Shane had work to get to, himself, so he slinked away from the storefront and made his way east. 

So, he knew when her birthday was. Now he just had to figure out what to get her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for reading! i may go back to the earlier chapters and clean them up a bit as i get a clearer vision of what i want this story to be. if i do that, i'll be sure to mention it in a future chapter's end notes. 
> 
> i'd also like to thank you all for reading!


	7. Heart-Shaped Box

That farmer girl wanted to get closer to him. Shane couldn’t bring himself to admit the same. But he had no problem admitting that the closer she got to him, the closer she’d get to being ripped apart. There was no place for love in his life, and he knew that. But ‘no’ was still a very hard word for Shane to say.

He was eating his lunch outside, the shade of a tree being his only reprieve from the heat. At the river’s edge, he watched (Y/N) fish, seemingly unbothered by the summer sun beating down on her. Her back was turned to him, keeping him out of her view.

Shane watched the muscles in her back strain as she tugged at a particularly strong fish. Her tank top was tight, giving him a clear view of her shoulder blades as they moved under her skin. Watching her work was enchanting, and Shane’s mind wandered back to her birthday. And then to why that was a bad idea. The stupid, hopeful idiot in him wanted to get her something. The Hopeful Shane was threatening to undo all the safety and stability that Asshole Shane had spent years building up. 

It’s not like he knew what to get her, anyway. 

She liked cocktails. Fruity, girly drinks. But the saloon would be closed for the Luau, so being lazy wasn’t really an option. Shane could always get her something practical for the farm, but that was so… predictable. She was making friends with other townies and Shane wanted his gift to stand out. 

She was pretty. Shane didn’t know anything about fashion, and (Y/N)’s style was all over the place. But girls liked that kind of shit anyway, right? Or would it be weird for him to get her clothing? Probably. It wasn’t like they were dating. Entertaining the thought was dangerous, but the daydream escaped him. His hear raced as he thought maybe, just _maybe…_

His mind wandered to the necklace she’d worn to the Egg Festival. His mind vaguely flitted around the implications of marriage the pendant conveyed, and the relief he’d felt when she turned out to not be married. 

…A necklace. The more Shane mulled it over, the surer of the idea he became. 

And the surer he became that he was getting a gift for (Y/N).

Shane was hopeless, but not completely moronic. He realized by the end of his second shift that he’d need help. (Y/N) was friends with Sam, but the thought of asking that little shitwipe for help made Shane want to vomit. Jas was too young, and Marnie was a gossip. 

Emily it was, then.

Shane settled in at the end of the bar that night, collapsing his arms against the wood. A wistful part of him hoped that the farmer would pop in for some reason, notice him moping in his corner and come pester him, but that didn’t happen. She never came in on weeknights, anyway. 

Shane needed three beers in his system before gathering the courage to wave over Emily.

“Another refill, Shane?” she asked with a bounce of her head.

“No, not yet. Um… you’re friends with the farmer, right?”

“The farm– you mean (Y/N)? Yeah, I like to think so! She’s really funny once you get to know her. Why do you ask?”

“I, I uhm…” Shane gripped his beer and glared at the varnished mahogany bar. “I– what does she– what do you think she’d like? As a, uh, gift, I mean.”

“Like… in general? Or for something specific?”

“I guess both.”

Emily leaned against the bar, mischief easing into her grin. “I’m gonna need a bit more information than that, friend.” 

Shane sighed and tried to backtrack, but relented quickly. “It’s her… birthday in a few weeks, and I—”

Emily cut him off with a gasp. She looked positively elated. Shane’s stomach twisted in apprehension. 

“Ohmygosh _when?_ I had no idea!”

“On the Luau.”

“On the– oh _Yoba,_ she’s so lucky. Gus!” Emily turned around, catching the bartender’s attention. “Did you know (Y/N)’s birthday lands on the Luau?”

The bartender’s mustache twitched up in a smile. “No, I didn’t! I should make the little lady something nice. A special option for the buffet table, maybe?”

Emily excitedly agreed and turned back to Shane. “So, are you going to get her something?”

“That was the plan,” Shane sighed. 

“Do you know what she likes?”

“Not really. I mean, I have a few ideas, but…” Shane grimaced. “They’re not great.”

“Well let’s brainstorm! We can help each other figure out what to get her,” Emily added with a laugh.

“That…” Shane shook his head, doubt eating away at his fragile hope. “This is a mistake. I should just go.”

He stood dramatically to leave, but Emily stuck an arm out across the bar, stilling him. 

“Shane.” Her eyebrows were raised seriously. Usually, she gave him this look when he was wasted and wouldn’t go home. “I think (Y/N) would really appreciate getting a gift from you, no matter what it is. No one else really knows about her birthday yet, right?”

Shane nodded. _Not that it matters much, now,_ he thought bitterly, knowing full well that Gus would tell every patron that came in the saloon over the next week. A part of him had wanted to be the only one to get her something. He had to remember to add _‘selfish’_ to his list of vices and sins.

“Then that’ll make your gift extra special,” Emily said resolutely. She smiled when Shane relaxed, sitting back down at the bar. “Besides, I’ll have lots of fun brainstorming with you. I have to get her something, too!”

Emily left to get a refill for Pam, leaving Shane to his thoughts. A gnawing voice still dragged his conscience down with guilt, reminding him this was a dangerous game he was playing, thinking he could have (Y/N). Foolishly hoping she wouldn’t be disgusted by him, human or otherwise. Hellish curse aside, it wasn’t like he was much of a catch. He was a fat, ugly, loser drunkard. Going after (Y/N) was both stupid and selfish. But then Emily returned, pulling Shane from his darkening thoughts.

“So, do you have any ideas yet?” Emily was grinning with creativity, making her appear almost manic. 

“I was, well,” Shane started with a nervous mumble, “would a necklace be too much?” 

Emily hummed. “I don’t think so, but it is a little intimate. At least coming from a guy, no offense. Unless…” Emily’s eyes narrowed at Shane, sizing him up, before widening with realization. “Unless that’s exactly what you want to imply!”

“No, no, I don’t—”

“Oh my gosh, Shane that is so cute.”

“God, Emily, it’s not like that—”

Emily grabbed one of Shane’s hands and gripped it tight. “I’m going to make sure it’s the _perfect_ gift. She’ll get the message. Aaaa! This is so exciting.”

“Emily—”

“This gives me the perfect excuse to get to know her better, too! I know I said she had this _energy,_ but it’s like, I don’t know, like she’s almost magical—”

“Em—”

“I’ll test the waters for you, see how interested she is first. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself or anything. You can come over to my place and—”

_“Emily.”_

“Huh?”

“Please shut up.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shane, Marnie, and Jas arrived at the Luau half an hour early. Normally, Shane would not join Marnie when she went early to set up for the potluck. For one, Shane was not a morning person. Secondly, he absolutely loathed watching his Aunt swoon over the gangly old mayor before the rest of town showed up. But today, he came early, with a small jewelry box resting in the pocket of his baggy shorts. 

He hung out with Jas for a while by the water’s edge until Vincent showed up, and Jas ran off to play with him instead. Shane had to consciously stop himself from being jealous of a 7-year-old boy. 

Another hour passed, and by now the whole town had showed up. The last to formally arrive was Elliot, who stumbled out of his little cabin in a daze when the dance music started blaring. Shane busied himself at the buffet table as he scanned the beach. 

_She isn’t here…_ a voice echoed in Shane’s mind, stoking the flames of his paranoia. Did she forget? What if she wasn’t going to come? Bits of overheard conversations made their way to Shane’s perceptive ears, informing him he wasn’t the only villager noticing the farmer’s lateness. After all, most of the town knew it was her birthday today, and those who cared had plans of their own for the farmer.

Shane threw his near-empty plate of food in a trash can and stomped up the beach toward town. No one noticed him slip away, or if any did, they probably counted it as a blessing. If Shane really wanted to stand out to her, he’d just have to beat everyone else to it.

Shane shoved his hands in his pockets, folding the box over and over in his hand as he paced near the bridge, his heart slamming against his ribcage. He hoped the necklace would be enough. He also hoped it wouldn’t be too much; Emily’s words echoed in his head from their ‘brainstorming’ session the previous Saturday. _‘Don’t get something that looks too expensive, girls sometimes say yes to things they don’t really want out of guilt.’_ That had set Shane’s anxiety on overdrive for the rest of the week, and he’d slipped into a downward spiral for at least half the week. That last thing he wanted or needed from (Y/N) was a pity-fuck. 

So, for better or for worse, he went with the simplest design Emily’d drafted; a small, pink crystal laid against a silver border. It was decently expensive, but only because Shane was broke as fuck. Emily had still given him a scandalously good deal, her kindness truly knowing no bounds.

Self-doubt continued to eat at Shane’s resolve. Was it weird to be standing at the entrance to the beach like this? A glance behind him confirmed no one would be able to see him through the thick brush, but the paranoia crept at Shane’s neck nonetheless. He contemplated walking up toward her farm and maybe try to catch her before she even got to the town square, but then (Y/N) turned a corner and Shane’s heart stopped beating completely.

From a distance, details were hard to make out, but the shapely curve of her bare skin was hard to mistake. A bikini top hugged her breasts, while a thin skirt fell from her waist to her ankles. The skirt was slit on one side, exposing a bare leg with every step she took. Bathed in the summery sunlight, (Y/N) was glowing with beauty. As she approached the bridge, she flashed Shane a toothy smile and waved.

“I hope it’s not already over!” (Y/N) called from the other end of the bridge, sauntering across the cobbles. Shane cleared his throat and met her halfway.

“No, uh, party’s in full swing. Lots of pop music and spiked punch, nothing to get too excited about. I had to come out here for some air.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” (Y/N) said with a coy smile. “I was hoping to have some fun today.”

Shane gulped. _Focus._

“So, uh, hey! It’s your birthday today, right?” Shane tried to smile, but it felt pained.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” (Y/N) looked torn between being flattered and bashful. “How did you know?”

Shane shrugged. “Bulletin board.”

“Right, yeah, that would make sense. Especially since I was the one who wrote it in.” (Y/N) chuckled nervously and looked out at the river. “But I saw it was the same day as the Luau, so I didn’t know if I should’ve bothered. I didn’t want to make things awkward and take attention away from the holiday. Or something like that. I always feel weird when there’s too much attention on me, you know?”

Shane nodded. He contemplated telling her that the Luau had transformed into a mini surprise party for the farmer. Before he could decide, she glanced up and down Shane’s body.

“You clean up nice.”

Shane’s concerns shifted to himself. He was just wearing a simple floral button up, the kind they wore down in the Fern Islands, tucked into some cargo pants. He muttered a thanks, painfully aware that he didn’t compare to (Y/N) by any means. Even in his prime, she would’ve outclassed him. The box in his pocket became that much heavier.

(Y/N) turned her head toward the large tote bag on her shoulder, resting it on the ledge of the stone bridge. “I wasn’t exactly sure what the mayor meant by potluck, so I brought a couple different things from the farm. Freshly picked this morning! Which is partly why I’m so late.”

“As long as they taste nice in a soup, you should escape Lewis’s wrath.”

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows skeptically. “In a… soup?”

“Yeah, everyone puts what they brought into a giant pot, and it gets boiled to death for a few hours before everyone gets a bowl.”

“That sounds _so_ gross,” she said with a cute, disgusted scrunch of her nose.

Shane shrugged. “I thought so too when I first moved here, but it usually ends up tasting pretty good. Except that one year Sam threw in three-day-old anchovies.”

“Oh, gross! But yeah, that sounds like Sam!” (Y/N) laughed heartily, hand going to her bare chest as she giggled. Oh yeah. 

Shane inhaled deeply, steeling his nerves. He was too invested in this stupid necklace — both monetarily and emotionally — to just not give it to her. Shane took the small box out of his pocket, gripping it tight.

“It’s your birthday.” Yes, Shane, she knew that. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly, smile still firmly on her face. Shane swallowed and looked down at the cobblestone bridge. “And I had– well, I’ve known for a while — you know, the bulletin board — and I wanted to, um.”

Shane grimaced. He stuck his arm out stiffly, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “Here.”

Her fingers brushed his as she took the box from him. God, he felt ridiculous. 

(Y/N) gasped. “Oh! Oh, Shane, this is— You didn’t have to do this!”

“If you don’t like it, just say so.”

“What?” (Y/N) sounded shocked. He looked up at her, and she looked astonished. “Shane, I love it. This is beautiful.”

The sincerity in her eyes burned holes in Shane’s skin. He suddenly felt sick, and shifted around, looking anywhere but her face as he mumbled out something unintelligible.

“Seriously, Shane,” she repeated, this time with a lighter tone. “This is a really sweet gift. I… It means a lot.”

And that final smile she gave him was the final blow. Cupid’s arrow hit its target. Bullseye. 

(Y/N) took the chain out of the box, placing the box in her bag before turning back to Shane. 

“Would you do the honors?” Her smile was sweet and innocent, and Shane felt himself falling even harder.

“Yeah,” Shane croaked, throat hoarse. (Y/N) handed him the necklace, turning, and gathering her hair to one side. Shane looked at her bare back for a minute, remembering the other day when he had seen her muscles move beneath her skin. Up close, she looked much more demure, muscles hidden beneath an oddly attractive layer of fat. 

He brought the necklace before her face, pulling the chain behind her neck. He tried not to touch her skin, but his fingers were like jello, and the chain kept slipping from his grasp. (Y/N) giggled at his struggles. Shane grumbled something rude but couldn’t fully commit to the bit. Finally, he latched the clasp together, dropping the chains with a victorious sigh. (Y/N) twirled with a huge grin on her face.

“What do you think?”

Shane looked (Y/N) up and down again, appreciating her body once again now that it was right in front of him. He realized too late that he should probably be more tactful in his ogling, but when his eyes shot back up to her face, she was looking down at her outfit sheepishly, tugging at the skirt.

“Is it too much?”

“It’s not enough,” Shane breathed out. Fuck. He cringed and immediately backtracked with a very smooth, “Shit, I mean, you look great. You look. Really great. Yeah.”

The smile she gave him had a twinge of pity behind it, making Shane want to crawl inside himself and burn alive. 

“Thanks. I mean… I’m not too, you know,” she waved a hand to her chest, “exposed?”

Shane gulped again, his pants tightening as he looked down at her chest again. Be cool, Shane, he reminded himself. Be cool.

“No, you’re fine. Nothing worse than what Haley wears, at least.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Well, I’ll just take that as another compliment. And then necklace looks good?” she added more hesitantly.

Shane’s eyes drifted down again. Almost a whisper, he replied, “Perfect.”

“This is really, really sweet, Shane. You didn’t have to get this for me.”

“I wanted to.”

(Y/N) tilted her head in pleasant confusion. “Why?”

“Because, I uh…” Shane trailed off. He hadn’t really thought too hard about why. Everything he did around her had been motivated by an impulse that he couldn’t control or ignore. It was an impulse to please her, maybe. He wanted to make (Y/N) happy. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to want him the way he wanted her.

Instead of saying that cheesy bullcrap, Shane shrugged and stammered out an “I just wanted to,” with a half-baked smile thrown in just in case. (Y/N) didn’t seem to mind. She just smiled at Shane, her eyes getting heavy with some sort of emotion Shane couldn’t quite place, as she played with the pendant between her fingers.

(Y/N) glanced down Shane’s body, judging his outfit. When her eyes lingered over his crotch, Shane was glad he wore cargo pants. So, so glad. When her eyes came back up to Shane’s face, they held something devilish behind them. Shane shivered with anticipation as she stepped closer to him.

“You look hot,” (Y/N) stated. If it wasn’t for the arch in her eyebrows, Shane might’ve missed the innuendo. She took a step closer and tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. Then, she began to unbutton the top of his shirt. She went one button at a time, her fingers dragging over his undershirt as she did so. Teasing him through that thin piece of fabric that separated their skin. 

“Buh… wha– what are y-you doing?” 

She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes, smiling coquettishly. “Why, I’m just helping you cool down. You looked so hot with your shirt buttoned up to your neck like that.”

(Y/N) finished unbuttoning the end of Shane’s shirt, her fingers trailing down Shane’s abdomen from his bellybutton to the top hem of his shorts. A shiver went down his spine and his breath hitched as his dick got a little bit harder. (Y/N) glanced up at him, her eyes dark with something, before glancing back down to his pants. She tugged the ends of the shirt out from his shorts, pulling out the wrinkled ends and flattening them against his thighs. When her arms looped around his abdomen to untuck the shirt from behind, she stepped forward again, her nearly-bare chest brushing against Shane’s as her arms hovered above his waist. 

It was only a moment, the briefest of motions as she untucked his shirt, but it felt like forever. She overwhelmed him, her presence setting every one of Shane’s nerves aflame as he absorbed her smell, her breath, the faint tingle of her skin against his. His heart was pounding against his ribcage and he felt almost lightheaded. Shane bent his head lower, suddenly overtaken by a want he’d been suppressing for months. His hands went to her waist, pulling her toward him and closing the gap between their flushed bodies. 

“…There,” (Y/N) exhaled, her breathing hastening and her eyes fluttering as they held Shane’s gaze, her hands hesitantly resting on his lower back. “Much better.”

Shane tightened his grip around her, then leaned down and kissed her.

She made a small noise of surprise against Shane’s mouth, but she didn’t pull away. They held their lips together for a moment, before (Y/N) finally started to press hers against Shane’s in a kissing motion. She was slow and sweet, matching Shane’s nervous tempo. 

_This is dangerous,_ a voice whispered in the back of Shane’s head. But as he tried to pull away from (Y/N), she trailed her arms up his body and wrapped them around his neck, bringing him into a deeper kiss. Shane pushed the evil thoughts away.

He kissed her harder. His wands wandered from the skirt around her waist up her bare back. His fingers twirled the nylon straps of her bikini around as he drew circles on her skin, which was as smooth as Shane had imagined. She shivered, pressed closer against him, and let out a breathy whimper into his mouth. Shane’s hard-on came to full attention at that, pressing against (Y/N)’s soft body through his shorts. Shane tried to pull away from her in embarrassment, but she simply smiled against his lips and pulled him closer.

They made out like that or a bit longer, feeling each other’s mouths with their own, tangling their fingers in each other’s hair. If Shane were to die right then and there, he’d die a happy man.

(Y/N) broke away, her sigh tickling Shane’s skin. He opened his eyes. Hers were still closed, and she had a content smile on her face. When she opened her eyes, she looked into his eyes. They were beautiful. Her gaze was intense, filled with that same _something_ that was starting to scare Shane. He couldn’t look away.

“We should get to the Luau,” (Y/N) whispered against Shane’s skin. She leaned away from him while he held her hips close. “I don’t want to miss any more of it.”

“But… Yeah. Okay.” Shane’s disappointment sounded whiny, making him wince.

(Y/N) smiled, laughing silently at him. It didn’t feel malicious, though, and Shane couldn’t help but chuckle along with her. Her hand left the back of his neck, tracing gently down his face, from his cheekbone to his jaw. (Y/N)’s expression was unreadable, and Shane suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. He stepped away from her, clearing his throat and looking away from her. (Y/N) stammered out some awkward reiterations of thanks as she grabbed her bag. Shane replayed that final moment over and over in his head, trying to figure out what it meant.

(Y/N) began to walk away toward the beach, glancing back at him, silently waiting for him to follow. Shane gulped. What came out of his mouth next was risky, but his head was dizzy with a horny confidence he knew would dissipate soon.

“Why don’t we play hookie?” Shane’s voice shook nervously, but he plowed on. “Skip this whole thing, go somewhere a bit… quieter.”

(Y/N)’s smile was a bit more mellow this time. “On any other day, I’d love to. But I’m not about to get all dressed up and then _not_ go to my first Luau.”

Shane tried to smile. “Right. That makes sense.”

“But hey, I’d really like to hang out with you later. Maybe not tonight, but soon. I, uh,” (Y/N) looked away and tensed up, fidgeting with the strap of her bag. For the first time that morning, she looked nervous. “I really like hanging out with you. I’d like to, um, do it more, if that’s okay.”

“Uh. Sure. I mean, yeah, of course. M-me too.”

“Great!” (Y/N) shouted with a forced grin. She made a weird face, almost like she was imitating a frog, then ducked her head and scurried toward the beach. So weird.

As the dirt under Shane’s feet shifted to sand, he heard an uproar ahead. The brambles of the forest cut away, and in the midst of the beach was (Y/N), swarmed by the more impatient of her friends as they shouted happy birthdays at her. 

She turned back and widened her eyes at Shane, as if to say, _‘You could have warned me!’_

Shane simply gave her a sly shrug and a smile. She was blushing red from all the sudden, unexpected attention, and Shane was very much enjoying watching her flustered performance. And then she was swept away, and Shane didn’t talk to her for the rest of the day.

Shane spent his day stuffing his face with food from the buffet, then stuck around for the soup. Much to his surprise, it actually tasted pretty damn good this year. He wondered if (Y/N) had anything to do with it, and based on a glance at her posture, she probably did. She looked chuffed with herself, standing with her friends as they chattered away without her. Shane glanced at them — Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian — and wondered if (Y/N) knew they were just a bunch of flaky loser assholes. He watched her face for a while, the way it lit up whenever one of them would say something dumb. Yeah, she definitely didn’t know.

(Y/N) locked eyes with Shane. Oh shit. She smiled at him. Now she was walking toward him. Fuck.

Shane’s early morning nervousness returned, and he tried to pretend he didn’t notice her. But then she was upon him with a smile, and despite standing on an open beach, there was nowhere for him to escape to.

“Hey,” she said with an arch in her eyebrows. Mischievous. “How’d you like the soup?”

Shane shrugged, turning his head to the side. “’S alright. A bit sweet for my tastes, but not bad.”

(Y/N) leaned in conspiratorially. “I ended up putting in all the produce I’d brought, even though I was only supposed to put in one thing.” Her grin was devilish. “I like to think that’s why it tastes so good.”

Shane smirked. “Don’t tell Marnie, she takes the fairness of the potluck very seriously.”

“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?”

“I dunno,” Shane said with a sing-song attitude, unable to drop his smile for the bit. “She might not sell you anymore chickens if she ever finds out.”

“Oh no,” (Y/N) put a hand to her chest in mock shock, a smile on her face as well as she played along. “I guess I’ll have to get my chickens from other sources. Something under the table.”

“I might know a guy.”

(Y/N) leaned in closer. “Maybe you can give me his number so I can hook up with him later?”

Shane laughed, fighting down a blush. “You’re not very subtle with this stuff, are you?”

(Y/N) blinked, face contorting into a variety of sheepish smiles, before settling on something more coy. “I don’t know what you’re implying. I want to talk to your chicken guy. I need him to come over and help me… clean my coop.”

“Wow, that one was almost painful.”

“It was not! I mean- ugh, you’re no fun.” She stuck out her hand. “You have a phone, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” Shane was confused, now.

“Well,” (Y/N) wiggled her fingers in a beckoning motion, “give it here.”

Shane pulled out his phone and handed it to her. When she asked him to unlock it for her, (Y/N) took a step closer to him so they were barely an inch apart. When she found whatever it was she was looking for, she started typing quickly. Shane glanced around the beach, and— yup, everyone was staring. Great.

“There,” she stated, placing the phone back in his hand. “Make sure your chicken guy gives me a call as soon as possible.”

Shane looked down at his phone. A new number was added to his contacts. 

_❤️(Y/N)❤️_

Oh, that was cute. 

“Uh, yeah, I will,” Shane mumbled. (Y/N) looked like she wanted to linger and talk, but Shane wanted to keep true to his tradition of leaving immediately after the soup tasting had ended. He stepped away from her, waving goodbye stiffly, grabbed some soup to-go, and trudged home alone, sun still rather high in the sky. 

And the whole walk home, Shane was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluhhh this chapter took way to long to write and edit. i've overread it to death so i have no idea if it's any good, and the word count was so hard to get under control lol.
> 
> exciting things are in store for the next few chapters, though ;)


	8. Pain Breaks the Rythym

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more violence is in this chapter
> 
> i hope yall like angst ;)

The sun set around 8:30 that night, which had given Shane plenty of time to get his full moon pack together and find a place deep in Cindersap Woods to camp out for the night. He couldn’t always tell when a full moon would hit its climax, so for those first few days he’d always get wasted in the woods as a precaution. The night of the Luau ended up being a false alarm, meaning the dreaded night of blood and gore would be tomorrow. Yay. 

Shane sat naked on the grass, watching the waves of the Gem Sea crash against the littered shore beneath the cliffs. It was a night like tonight that made him understand why it was called the Gem Sea; the moonlight glittered against the dark waters like sparkling diamonds, the reflective light rivaling that of the stars above. Even though Shane was blasted out of his mind, and a cynical asshole to boot, he could still appreciate the beauty of nature when he was emotionally inclined to. 

An ocean breeze brushed by Shane, making him shiver and remember his nakedness. He struggled more with his shorts than he should have, realizing only as he caught his pubic hair in his fly that he’d forgotten to put on his boxers. Shane cursed in pain, then cursed some more just for the hell of it. He collapsed back down on the grass, laying back as he looked up at the stars. He contemplated his own insignificance in the universe, wondering why the hell it decided to make his life in particular so shitty. 

No friends. No real family. What little family he did have was ashamed of him. He’d been cursed to become a monster and rip and maim and kill anyone who got close to him. Everyone who ever cared about him was dead. 

The worst part was, Shane had never been able to figure out what he’d done to deserve such suffering. Sure, he’d always been a bit of an asshole, but he was never malicious about it. He wasn’t a bully, he wasn’t a thief or a liar or sexist or racist or any of that shit. He was just a bit of an ass. Apparently, that was all it took to get cursed by the gods themselves, or whatever the hell was up there tormenting him.

He heard his phone vibrate somewhere in his backpack. Probably a text from Marnie, pissed at him for disappearing and getting sloshed right after the Luau. He couldn’t blame her, but it wasn’t like Shane had much choice. Not that he could ever explain that to Marnie.

Then Shane remembered that the farmer put her name in his phone. He remembered how she’d gotten so close to him, _clearly_ flirting with him in front of _the entire town._ Shane groaned and covered his face with his hands, ashamed that (Y/N) had so plainly associated herself with him. It must’ve looked like she was pitying him. Fuck. The idea of being the center of the town’s attention for any amount of time made Shane grossly uncomfortable. At least no one saw them kiss.

They… kissed. Shane groaned again. _Why_ the _hell_ did he _kiss_ her? Yeah, he’d been wanting to for months, but (Y/N) was off-limits. Everyone was off-limits. He didn’t deserve to have someone look at him like that, eyes all wide and doe-like. He didn’t deserve to have her hold him close, to have her stroke his face as if she actually liked how it looked, to moan into his mouth like she actually wanted more. 

But he still had her number.

Shane shoved his hand into his backpack, groping around for his familiar squarish box of a phone. His screen was too bright in the darkness of the night and triggered a migraine, but he tapped through it with a curse. He ignored the angry texts from Marnie and searched his contacts for those bright red heart emojis. He wondered what (Y/N) meant when she put them there. Shane pulled up a new text and

And… had no idea what to say.

Fuck.

Shane stared at his phone screen until it timed out. He turned it back on again, typed in his password, stared, timed out. Repeat. He was nervous like a teenager, desperate to send _something_ but terrified to say something stupid. Shane sat up, took a swig of bourbon, and typed out the only thing he could think.

_Shane: hey  
Shane: this is shane btw_

Okay. Not too bad. Shane tapped his fingers nervously, wondering how long it would be until she texted back. Should he have used punctuation? Capitalized? Or would that have been too stuffy? 

But then his phone vibrated, and Shane was saved from his drunken anxieties.

_❤️(Y/N)❤️: Hey!! Im glad to hear from you :)_

Shane waited a minute for a second text, but she sent nothing. Ball was in his court, then.

_Shane: same been thinking about you  
Shane: not like that  
Shane: just in general  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Lol dw im flattered xD   
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Ive been thinking about you too, in all sorts of ways_

Shane smiled as he thought about how to respond. She was so bad at subtlety.

_Shane: hehe glad to hear its mutual  
Shane: maybe ill send my chicken guy over after all  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Oooooo I like the sound of that. Im excited to meet him ;)  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Maybe we can meet at the saloon tomorrow night for a drink?   
Shane: sorry tomorrows bad for me  
Shane: but i could probably do this weekend or smth  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Lol that’s okay, im probs really busy anyway  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Thanks again for the necklace btw, I really really love it  
Shane: np_

Shane couldn’t tell if this conversation was going well or not. He waited for a text back, but what he got instead was a photo.

(Y/N) had taken a photo of herself wearing the necklace, smiling sweetly as the camera angled down, drawing focus to her breasts. She was only wearing a tank top, and it looked like she was in bed. Shane felt the alcoholic heat flow straight to his dick. She was far too cute for him to handle right now.

_❤️(Y/N)❤️: I don’t think I’ll ever take it off haha  
Shane: wow thats high praise  
Shane: chicken guys got nothin on me  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Chicken guy WISHES he had what you have  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: You’ve got the good stuff goin on shane  
Shane: you flatter me  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Ur still welcome to drop by my place anytime btw  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Like just to hang out or w/e. My farm actually looks somewhat decent compared to when I first moved in.  
Shane: oh yeah that place was a shithole  
Shane: no offense  
Shane: i used to hang out there a lot before you moved to town  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Oooo really? Then you DEF have to come visit asap  
Shane: ill see what i can do  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Lol okay mr. Mysterious. I should probably sleep soon too, I gotta get up at the ass crack of dawn to make up on all the work I missed today  
Shane: damn thats rough  
Shane: night  
❤️(Y/N)❤️: Goodnight!! ❤️❤️❤️_

Shane fell back on the grass, staring up at the stars with a stupid grin on his face. He was far too drunk to worry about how he came across over text. All he could think about were the three — not one, but three! — red hearts punctuating her final text. That _had_ to mean something. Something good. 

Shane closed his eyes. He was lulled to sleep by the low roar of the waves and the humming of the crickets, the warm summer air blanketing him as he imagined (Y/N)’s embrace.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Shane might have been just about the worst texter (Y/N) had ever encountered. She wasn’t surprised, honestly, but it did make it very hard to read between the lines, especially when she had been so exhausted after yesterday. The Luau/birthday party had been a lovely surprise, but she was still an introvert at heart, and that much socializing in one day had her drained.

The next morning (Y/N) re-read the texts, analyzing all the words said and unsaid between them, worrying over whether the impromptu selfie had been too suggestive, or if it had even been cute enough to send to him at all. 

She was doing too many stupid, bold things that were bound to blow up in her face any day now. The way she’d brazenly flirt with him, despite him being so shy. How she basically fucking undressed him in the middle of the square like that, just to tease him. She was probably being selfish, or maybe just disrespectful. (Y/N) fixated on that for a bit as she began her morning routine, harping on herself for not respecting Shane’s boundaries, and vowing to do better going forward. Even if he wouldn’t verbally say he was uncomfortable with something, or if he wanted something more, (Y/N) could still read between the lines. She wasn’t _that_ dense. 

(Y/N) fed her chickens and cows first. Four chickens and two cows made collecting eggs and milk swift. Next, she fed her dog, Toby. Toby was only 9 months old, but was still an impressively large, long-haired white dog with lots of energy to spare. Training him hadn’t been too challenging, the breeder having done most of the hard work. (Y/N) was excited to get more farm animals for him to protect. He was a good boy and having him around made the farm significantly less lonely.

(Y/N) spent the rest of her morning watering her crops, weaving in and out of her growing corn field. She figured, if she invested heavily in corn right now, it’d pay off tenfold by the end of autumn, right?

Toby’s bark interrupted the farmer’s thoughts. It was sharp and frenzied, unlike his normal low, bored bark. (Y/N)'s anxiety spiked instinctively, and she stepped out of the corn field slowly. Toby was at the edge of the fence, barking from inside the chicken's corral at something south. (Y/N) stepped out of the corn, and…

"Shane!" (Y/N) exclaimed in surprise, beaming at the sight of him. She dropped her watering can without second thought, jogging over to greet her friend (who was also something more than a friend at this point). He was visibly startled by Toby, his eyes wide as he stared at the still-barking dog.

“Sorry about Toby, I don’t know _why_ he’s barking at you like that,” the farmer said with a breathy chuckle. “I guess I need to work on his socialization better.”

“I don’t like... dogs,” Shane muttered, still glaring warily at Toby. “And they don’t like me.”

“Aw, well that’s too bad. I’ll go put him away, though,” (Y/N) said with a grin as she walked toward the corral. “He’s being an annoying lil’ shit right now.” (Y/N) was careful not to let Toby jump through the fence as she walked through it. She had to grab him roughly by the collar and basically drag him away from Shane, his panicked barking not abating even when he was locked inside the chicken coop. (Y/N) would deal with him later.

She walked back to Shane with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that, I’m still new to the whole dog training stuff. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine summer morning?”

Shane blinked. “Um. You said it was okay to come by any time, so I thought I’d stop by before work. But if you’re busy I can scram—”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No, no, this is a pleasant surprise. You just made my morning much better.”

A smile made its way onto Shane’s face, but not for long. It quickly dropped into a grimace as he put a hand to his head, blocking the morning sun from his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just a bit hungover.”

(Y/N) knit her brow. “The punch wasn’t _that_ spiked yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, no. I had a bit to drink later that night. Kinda fell asleep outside by accident,” Shane added sheepishly. (Y/N) smiled at the imagery. 

“You should’ve invited me, I love impromptu nights of drinking. And falling asleep in the grass sounds so romantic.”

Shane pulled his face into an odd grimace that looked torn between twisting up into a smile or down into a frown. 

“Um. Yeah, about that.” Shane sighed, clearly stressed over his next words. (Y/N)’s heart dropped. 

“So, um. I’m not,” Shane sighed and closed his eyes, “I’m not great at talking about my emotions and shit. And I’m not… I don’t…” Shane’s voice got small, and he kept his eyes shut tight. “I’m bad at saying no to something like this. But I don’t deserve a relationship. Not right now. Especially not with someone like you.”

“…What do you mean, ‘someone like me?’” (Y/N) knew he didn’t mean it like _that,_ but it was hard to keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

“I mean,” Shane opened his eyes, bugging them out at the ground as he made an exasperated face. “You’re just so… _great._ And I’m so,” he gestured to himself, _“me.”_

“But I like you.” (Y/N)’s voice sounded childlike in its simplicity, an audible pout making its way into her voice. But she said it so plainly, so defensively, that Shane tore his eyes from the ground to glare at (Y/N) in confusion.

“Why?”

It was the same question she’d asked him the day prior when he’d given her the necklace — which she hoped he could see she was proudly wearing — but without the flirtatious subtext. He was genuinely asking why she would be interested in him, whereas she’d been asking more rhetorically just to see what kind of reaction she could get out of him. God, (Y/N) was a real bitch. She’d gone and manipulated this poor nervous wreck of a man just because she had a hopeless horny crush on him.

“Because… I don’t know, Shane. I just feel comfortable around you.” (Y/N) glared at the ground, unsure of how much she should be honest about upfront. “I don’t think when I’m around you. Which usually means I’ll say or do something stupid, but it’s a nice change of pace from my normal overthinking.”

Shane didn’t respond, mulling over her words like she’d just told him the meaning of life and the last digit of pi. 

“I just don’t want to bring your reputation down by associating yourself with me.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I have a reputation?”

Shane nodded emphatically, taking the steam out of (Y/N)’s laughter. “Yeah, and a damn good one. You’re hard-working, kind, generous. Everything I’m not. The town’ll either think I’m your charity case, or that I’m using you.”

“Well... then screw what the town thinks.” Shane startled at her harsh tone, but she didn’t back down. “No, I mean it. You’re really gonna let a bunch of old fuddy-duddies and their rumor mill stop you? Shane, if you don’t want anything… _more,_ that’s fine, I guess, but I don’t think that’s what you want. I mean,” (Y/N) gestured to her necklace, “I don’t think you would’ve gotten me a freakin’ necklace for my birthday if you just wanted to be _friends.”_

Shane stared at her for a long moment, his expression tense and unreadable, before shaking his head. “It’s more complicated than that.” Shane still looked so deeply unsure of himself that it was rubbing off on (Y/N). 

“Sorry,” she sighed, regretting her outburst. “I didn’t mean to go off like that. I’m just hot and get worked up easily.”

Shane still had a nervous glare in his eyes, but his expression softened slightly. 

“You’re hot, huh?”

(Y/N) smirked. She walked right into that one. “Hot and extremely bothered.” 

Shane didn’t respond. He simply stood there looking at her, a small smile etched into his face. So, motivated once again by stupid flirtatiousness, (Y/N) played with the bottom of her top, pulling it up slightly to expose skin unkissed by the sun.

“Are you going to help me cool down?”

Shane scoffed, almost leering as he took in what she was wearing. Just jeans shorts and a tank top, an outfit meant to expose as much skin to the UV rays of the sun as was socially acceptable. “You won’t need much help from me.”

He didn’t make a move closer, though, so (Y/N) respected the distance between them. She was finally realizing just how _shy_ Shane really was. It was more than a just social anxiety like what she had; he seemed to be insecure to his core. 

_Patience,_ she reminded herself. Patience was what she needed to have right now. Unfortunately, she had never been the patient type. 

“So what do you want to do?” she asked quietly, genuinely unsure of how Shane would respond. He sighed, shoulders sagging, and she steeled herself for the worst.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Shane said, his edge of mystery catching the farmer off guard. “There’s a lot no one knows about me. I’m- I’m dangerous—” (Y/N) bit back a scoff “—and it’s not right to w-want the things I want, and I know better than this, and I haven’t even dated anyone in… years. I’m not- I’m not good at this friendship stuff. Not used to having someone actually _want_ to talk to me, let alone… _kiss_ me.”

Shane looked ready to crumple in on himself. “But I’m not strong enough to say no to it.”

The farmer gave him a moment, waiting for him to continue, but it seemed that he was done. Watching this man she’d thought had been so gruff and aloof be so insecure and honest before her, terrified by the mere thought of her saying _yes_ to him, made her heart swell with emotion. Was it pity? Friendship? _The L word?_ (Y/N) took a step forward, desperate to bridge the gap between them.

“Shane…” (Y/N) struggled to find something good to say. She knew she’d fuck it up, but she had to say something. “I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. I know I’ve been, like, really forward with you, and that’s just cuz I get really stupid when I get around someone I like. I get nervous, and—” she scratched the back of her neck, realizing she was just rambling on in self-pity. Focus. “Well, I like you is what I’m trying to say. If you’d like to just stay friends, I’m totally okay with that. I get it. But, if you want more, I do too. And I don’t know what you’re going through right now, but you can always talk to me about it, whether we try this dating stuff or just stay friends.” 

Shane scoffed at that last bit, still avoiding her eye. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one a million times.”

“What, the talking bit, or the part where I wanna smooch your face?”

Shane huffed, his face contorting into an exasperated, nervous half-smile. “Dunno why you’d wanna do something like that with me, but… you are pretty weird.”

“The good kind, right?” (Y/N) replied with a coy smirk, taking another step closer to Shane.

Shane stepped toward her, the gap between them closing. “Definitely.”

And then, the space between them closed. A moment of hesitation flickered between them. (Y/N) placed her hands on Shane’s shoulders and leaned up to kiss him. His lips were dryer than they’d been the day before, but just as soft. They kissed slow like that for a while, before Shane’s hands _finally_ rested on (Y/N)’s waist.

“Sorry, ‘m kinda sweaty…” he mumbled against her lips, his head involuntarily leaning away from hers. (Y/N) just laughed and held him closer, bringing his face down to hers again. Lord knew she was sweaty as a pig from working in the summer sun all morning. 

The heat they shared between them relaxed their tensions. The passion of their kisses picked up, still staying rather tame, but involving more head bobbing and tongue grazing and the occasional whimper from (Y/N). Every time she made a noise Shane would jump a little in his skin, and she had to restrain herself from teasing him more. She’d save that for later.

(Y/N) pulled away from his lips with a small _pop._ “So is that a yes?”

“A yes for…?” 

“For dating, silly.”

“Oh! Um. Yeah, definitely a yes.”

(Y/N) knew the grin that plastered across her face was stupidly giddy, but standing there by the corn field, holding the very awkward, very handsome man in her arms, with the early summer sun casting hazy shadows over them, made the whole moment grossly romantic. Luckily, he mirrored her dopey grin in kind.

“Any ground rules I should know?”

Shane hummed in thought, zoning out. Yoba, he was cute when he did stuff like that. “The dating traditions in the valley are weird. You can’t just _date_ someone, ya gotta court them like a fucking peacock mating ritual.” (Y/N) giggled, which seemed to boost Shane’s confidence. “Yeah, seriously, there’s flowers, magic necklaces, fuckin… sometimes people get married after barely a year of dating.”

“Christ, that’s fast. I hope you don’t mind us taking this at least three times slower.”

“No problem with that at all.”

“Anything else?”

“I guess no public stuff,” Shane muttered after a moment in thought. When he realized the rude implications, he blanched. “I-It’s not you! It’s just- I’m just, a mess and a loser and a—"

“No PDA. That’s fine.”

“Yeah?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m impulsive, not a creep. I can keep my horny rage in my pants, when necessary.” 

Shane’s face went three shades darker. He shook his head at her, his smile strained in amusement. “You’re so weird.”

(Y/N) kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you.”

Shane bent his head lower and kissed (Y/N) again, holding her head with one hand and her waist with the other. She greedily kissed back, ruining the slow pace he’d been trying to set. He pulled away with a huff and a laugh, but didn’t lean back down.

“I gotta go,” he muttered. (Y/N) held him closer.

“You don’t have to. We can hang out if you want. I mean, like, _just_ hang out,” (Y/N) quickly clarified after another nervous choke from Shane. “I have a bunch of chores to do, but I wouldn’t mind the company as I worked.”

Shane shook his head with a strained smile, stepping away from her. “Nah, I got work soon. I wish I didn’t, but… gotta pay the bills somehow.” 

She glanced down at his t-shirt and shorts. “Where’s your uniform?”

Shane padded the backpack on his shoulders. “In here. I hate being seen in that ugly fuckin thing, so I change when I get there.”

“Fair enough,” she said with a laugh, backing away toward her field. “I fucking hated my Joja uniform, too. Ugliest shade of blue I’ve ever seen.”

And with that, they parted awkwardly, not sure when to or who should say the final goodbye. But eventually, Shane was off to work, and (Y/N) was left smiling like an idiot. 

She floated around her farm for the rest of the day, normally grueling tasks becoming somehow bearable. The farmer texted her new… friend-but-more throughout the day. Y/N) was starting to get used to Shane’s simple texting style, and they easily bounced off each other, easily finding things to talk and joke about. It was all so _new_ and exciting, and (Y/N)’s heart raced whenever she thought about it for more than five seconds.

Around 6, she was surprised to get a text from Abigail inviting her over to Sebastian’s for an ‘emergency’ movie night. The emergency being the summer heat, and Sebastian having one of the strongest A/C units in the valley. She took a quick shower to wash away the sweat and grime her skin had collected throughout the day. She felt a pang of guilt when she realized she’d missed a text from Shane, leaving him hanging for over half an hour.

_(Y/N): Sorry, just got out of the shower  
Shane❤️: oh shit sorry  
Shane❤️: you can uh. Get back to that if you need to  
(Y/N): Lmao such a gentleman  
(Y/N): Did I arouse any unwanted thoughts? ;)  
Shane❤️: …no  
(Y/N): Lmao your cute  
Shane❤️: *youre  
Shane❤️: didnt you go to college farmgirl  
(Y/N): Those are fighting words chicken man. And yes, cant you see how helpful it is for my current career path  
Shane❤️: u wanna go?? My place, this friday, 6p  
Shane❤️: dont be late  
(Y/N): Is that a date?  
Shane❤️: um  
Shane❤️: if you want it to be  
(Y/N): Of course I do chickenbrain  
(Y/N): Oh also im about to watch a movie w the squad so I might be awol for a few hours  
Shane❤️: thats fine  
Shane❤️: have fun_

(Y/N) smiled. She hadn’t hit it off this quick with someone else… well, ever. She was so glad she took a chance on him. She walked through the north trail to Sebastian’s house as she texted, receiving Shane’s final text right as she entered Robin’s house.

She knocked on Sebastian’s bedroom door, still not quite comfortable entering unannounced. Muffled chatter lulled as a voice huffed to the door. Sebastian threw the door open, a rush of freezing air billowing out of his room. He opened the door with a deeply irritated expression, but when he saw it was (Y/N) it immediately dropped to something friendlier.

“Oh, hey (Y/N).”

“What, were you expecting someone else?” (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh at Sebastian’s mood swings as he let her enter. 

“Yeah, my mom or sister,” he grumbled. “They’re the only ones who knock on my door anyway.”

“Well, I just wanted to be polite,” (Y/N) responded cheekily. She sauntered over to where Abigail and Sam were gathered, the two arguing over what movie to watch.

“Abbs, I don’t wanna watch another horror movie!” Sam whined, his eyes wide with dramatized anxiety.

“We’re not watching _27 Dresses,_ Sam,” Abigail deadpanned.

“Oh c’mon! When do I get to pick a movie!”

“Sam, the last time you picked a movie the rest of us fell asleep!”

“Yeah, well— (Y/N)! You’ll back me up, right?” Sam turned to the farmer desperately, the tall boy shrinking in on himself.

(Y/N) hummed in mock-thought, placing a finger on her chin and looking up toward Sebastian’s ceiling. “You know, I actually think I wanna watch a horror movie.”

Sam groaned and Abigail whooped in victory. Abigail glanced at the farmer and smiled.

“You look chipper this evening,” she teased as she pulled up a movie pirating website on her laptop. Sebastian’s board game area had already been cleared away to make room for a mini projector and laptop setup, the bare wall beneath Sebastian’s sole window being the perfect spot for a movie screen.

“Well…” (Y/N) trailed off, a dopey smile making its way onto her face again. (Y/N) contemplated telling her friends about her budding romance, but it still felt too soon. Too young to announce to the world, yet. “Let’s just say it’s been a really good couple of days.”

Abigail scoffed from where she was squatting on the floor. “If you say so. Hey, you’re well-versed in horror movies, got any suggestions?”

(Y/N) settled into her spot on the couch, thinking it over. Sam begged for it to be something PG-13, while Sebastian demanded it have at least a 75% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. They’d all seen a good deal of recent horror thrillers from the past few years, and (Y/N) was in the mood for something for something older.

“You guys mind an older movie?” Her friends shook their heads. “Great. Abigail, do they have _An American Werewolf in London_ on there?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Luckily for (Y/N), the film passed her friends’ approval. Sebastian critiqued the actors’ cringeworthy acting and the occasionally corny screenwriting, but he appreciated the tension between comedy and horror. Abigail thoroughly enjoyed the gore scenes, gushing over the realism of the special effects. (Y/N)’s favorite part was always the tragic horror of it all; at the end of the day, the poor kid didn’t deserve anything that happened to him. And Sam hated it, but that was to be expected.

By the time the friends wrapped up their night, it was just past 11 o’clock. It was a dark, cloudy night, the moon mottled by foggy clouds. (Y/N) considered taking the fast way through the north pass, but… well, she wasn’t quite brave enough for that, yet. The walk back to town with Sam and Abigail was pleasant, but they mostly talked to each other about band practice. (Y/N) didn’t mind, necessarily. Really, her good mood just overwhelmed any other social anxieties she’d be having about being a third wheel in this moment. Because who cared if she was third wheeling if she’d (hopefully) have someone to call her own in just a few dates?

(Y/N) sent a quick text to Shane about a potential movie night together, trailing behind her friends. She smiled as she reread their texts, their banter feeling more natural to reread than how tense and exciting it had felt in the moment. 

“Who’re you texting?” Abigail sauntered over, her sudden voice making (Y/N) jump and clutch her phone.

“No one!” (Y/N) squeaked.

“So _that’s_ why you’re in such a good mood!” Abigail exclaimed, eyes bright with victory. “No one’s ever that happy without good reason.”

Sam made a noise of protest. “Well, that’s not true…”

Abigail brushed him aside, begging to know who the farmer was texting. (Y/N) played dumb for as long as she could, trying desperately to hide her panic with smiles. Fuck, she was so bad at lying. Back in college, she would’ve just spilled the beans on her new boy toy without second thought, but… what she had going on with Shane felt too serious for that. At the very least, he was taking it very seriously, and so (Y/N) should, too. And something about him wanting to take things slow, and private, emphasized itself in (Y/N)’s head. So, she resisted her impulses to gossip with her new girl friend, and doubled down on her noncommittal, very boring, and unconvincing answer of, “It’s nobody, I swear! I just really like reading the news!”

And then, the young adults were in front of Pierre’s shop. Luckily for (Y/N), the sight of the place put a sudden damper on Abigail’s mood.

“Want me to walk you home?” Sam asked (Y/N). At first, she wondered if there was a double meaning there, but his tone had been flat and his eyebrows were raised in an innocent politeness. (Y/N) often forgot he was just a genuinely nice guy, since his two friends were always so snarky.

“I appreciate your gallantry, but I think I’ll be fine, Sam. Thanks,” (Y/N) added with a smile. The three parted ways, Sam heading south while (Y/N) walked west, fading into the darkness.

The light of the moon barely made its way through the clouds. The trees were imperceptible from their shadows, arching high above the dirt road like fingers. She walked slowly down the dirt road to her farm, careful not to trip over the shadow of a stone. As she passed the bus stop, the clouds parted for the moon. It was large and white, imposing itself upon the black night sky. It was almost cinematic, (Y/N) thought with a shiver. The golden glow of her porchlight cut through the darkness, and she neared her property with swift feet.

She heard the screams at her mailbox. (Y/N) stilled, her pulse increasing and her muscles tensing. The screams came again; shrill, avian screeches of agony. Her chickens.

(Y/N) peered through the darkness, but wasn’t able to see her coop well through the darkness. She saw… lumps in the corral outside, and oh God the screams were back. She raced into her house as she listened to her chickens get murdered by _something._ There was crashing next, as she tore through her cabin for her sword. There was a loud _crash!_ as she stormed out of her house, shimmering blue blade in hand. She heard a frightened cry from her cows. (Y/N) shook with fear and rage, and she sprinted toward her livestock.

The wooden fence of the corral had been broken down, wooden logs ripped in half and strewn across the small corral. A chicken fluttered away from the carnage within the coop, its white feathers matted with blood. (Y/N) stepped inside and approached the first mottled white clump that laid limp on the dirt.

It was Toby.

(Y/N) choked back a cry. Her poor, sweet, baby dog was… she looked away. More crashing from her barns — her animals were still being murdered. She stepped over his body with a prayer. 

The garage door to the chicken coop had been ripped down, like a truck had barreled straight through it at full speed. (Y/N) stepped through the debris, her sneakers squelching against a sickly dark liquid that she didn’t want to think about. More clumps of darkened feathers lay around the coop, lifeless. There was another large hole ripped through the side of the coop, leading straight through to the barn. And beyond the gaping hole, a hulking silhouette hunched over her cow. 

“Hey!” (Y/N) yelled at the figure. Blood was rushing loudly through her head, narrowing her vision down. She looked down the dark tunnel at the figure, pulsing with rage. “Get away from my animals!”

It turned its head.

Holographic.

The nocturnal glare of the beast pierced (Y/N)’s anger, draining it away in an instant. The sword felt cold and heavy in her hands, and she realized now that she couldn’t breathe. _Not again._

The beast didn’t hesitate this time. It dropped a piece of flesh from its mouth, its jaw dripping with sticky tendrils of blood, and leapt at her with a growl. (Y/N) held up her sword defensively, but it was too fast — the beast swiped her away like a ragdoll, throwing her against the wall of coop. A sickening crack! echoed through (Y/N)’s head and she cried in pain. Her vision flashed white, the sword falling from her hand as her right arm went limp with pain. _But the beast...!_ — she heard its panting and forced her eyes open. It was taking its time now, enjoying the show its prey was putting on. It stood up on its hind legs, and (Y/N) realized she was about to die.

Illuminated from behind by the moon and farmlights filtering through the gaping holes, the beast stood nearly 10 feet tall. Its body was freakishly humanoid, the way an ape’s is, uncanny in a way that makes your skin crawl. Its skin was thick and black, fine hairs patchily covering its body. Its face was the most horrific. Outlined by the white backlighting, the face was narrow and elongated, the mouth mostly wolfish while the head and _eyes_ were terrifyingly human.

Its claws flexed.

(Y/N) groped for her sword, which laid somewhere between her and the wall. Grabbing the hilt with her left hand, she held the blade up and swung.

She’d made contact with the beast’s chest, just as it had lunged forward to finish her off. It roared and reared back. In a glance she saw a smoking slash across its chest. _Magic blood,_ she realized, and a surge of confidence returned to her. This was a monster, like the ones she’d fought in the mines. It was weak to her magical sword, just like any other mortal creature. (Y/N) lunged forward, piercing the beast’s shoulder while it had been distracted by pain. It roared again, stumbling backwards as its skin sizzled and hissed. (Y/N) took this chance to slip by the beast, running out the hole in the wall.

(Y/N)’s arm dangled uselessly at her side. She gawked over her shoulder as she ran through the dark, catching a glimpse of the beast as it ripped out of the coop, stumbling away from the farm. She whipped her head back around as she sprinted toward the lights of her cabin. 

Her arm was immobile. She looked down at it as she entered the light of her porch, and— bone, blood, skin, pain, blood and red and red and—

Black.

_Red._

_Pounding, throbbing, pulsing. Pain._

_A nightclub. Red lights pulsed with the beat of the music._

_She stumbled through the faceless crowd. They were shadows of people, blacks and greys fading into translucence among the wash of red. She pushed desperately for a wall to ground herself against, anything to escape the suffocating emptiness of being clawed apart by the darkness._

_She stumbled against a person, instead. He caught her in his arms, leaning against a bar. It was Shane._

_But it… wasn’t. He was younger, leaner, tanner. He smirked at her with an unnerving leer._

_“Well, hey there, sweet thing,” he crooned, holding her steady. “What’s an angel like you doing falling into the arms of a devil like me?”_

_She struggled to think. “Shane, something- something is wrong.”_

_His leer faltered. “How’dya know my name?”_

_“Shane, please, where are we? How do we get out of here?” She gripped his t-shirt desperately._

_Shane chuckled and shook his head, a twisted smirk stretching across his face. “You don’t. I haven’t had company here in years… I think you’ll do just fine.”_

_“Shane, please,” she said again. The pulsing was getting louder, the pain throbbing against her thoughts. She held his face in her hands, searching._

_He glared, then faltered. Then realized._

_“Unless you’re…” Shane’s expression turned to panic. He looked at her face, and suddenly was holding it tightly. His thumbs cupped her jawline while his fingers dug into the back of her neck. “(Y/N), you have to wake up.”_

_“What? H-how, I don’t—”_

_“(Y/N), you have to wake up,” Shane held her face desperately, his eyes wide with fear and anguish. “You can’t become like me, please, it’ll kill me. You’re too good, you’re too lovely for this pain. You have to wake up, you have to wake up, you have to…”_

_Shane kept repeating himself, holding her tighter and tighter. She struggled to break out of his grip, trashing and pulling to no avail. The red pulsed around her, drumming louder and louder and Louder. She stuck her hand out, grabbed something sharp from the shadows, and swung._

_She stabbed him in the chest. A broken beer bottle protruded from his black t-shirt, straight through the heart. She looked into his eyes. His big, scared, anguished eyes._

_“You have to—"_

(Y/N) opened her eyes. She was collapsed on the stairs of her porch. How long had she been passed out?

She looked behind her, catching no sign of the monster. She forced herself to rise. She clutched her right shoulder, the pain of the broken bone suddenly shooting up her nerves. She willed herself not to look down at the gore again and stumbled into her house. She groped in the dark for her phone, ripping it from discarded shorts and dialed the first number she could think of.

_“911, where is your location?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know there in neither an america nor a london in the universe of stardew valley, but american werewolf is one of my favorite horror movies and i couldnt resist putting it in here. there will be quite a few parallels in this fic to the movie, since that's what im mainly drawing my inspiration from. 
> 
> thank you to everyone leaving lovely feedback comments! it's extremely motivating to know there are people out there enjoying reading this as much as i am writing it. 
> 
> oh also!! college starts back up for me in a week so i'm not sure if i'll be able to update as regularly


	9. This Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter involves some spiraling from shane's pov. it's a prelude to shane's 8-heart event. the event won't be described in detail, but it will be referenced. in other words, angst is incoming

A pain seared in his chest like he’d never felt before, dragging Shane out of his dreamless sleep. The sizzling aftermath of what felt like an oil burn was swathed in some sort of cool, minty ointment. The odor made Shane’s nose twitch, and he forced his eyes open. 

Trees. An early morning sky. But it was too… blue. 

_Shit,_ he’d slept in.

Shane sat up suddenly. He winced in pain when the plaster keeping his skin together on his chest popped open, and he grabbed at the gash in an attempt to keep his blood inside.

“Woah there, son, no sudden movements,” an old man’s voice piped up. Shane tensed and startled away from the source with a glare. Whoever Shane had been expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t the old hobo that lived in the mountains.

“Th’fuck are you doing? Wh-what did you do to me?” Shane’s voice inched an octave up with stress and fear.

“I saved your life, son,” the hobo said earnestly, although his expression was hard to read with such a shaggy fucking beard. “They’s be magical wounds on your chest, there, and without my balm, you woulda just burned up alive.”

Shane looked down at his chest in a frenzy. His chest had been slashed open, from his left hip to his right shoulder, although that wound only felt skin deep. The real kicker was the throbbing puncture wound into his right shoulder. Something had fucked it up real bad, and the minty goop layered onto it like concrete. The plaster was loosely held onto his skin by bandages, only half-taped, like the hobo had run out of gauze too soon. Shane shook with rage.

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do this,” he seethed at the old man.

The man’s shoulders sagged. “And I didn’t do it for you. You come up into my mountains, rampage like you do — it disturbs the peace up here. I don’t have anything against you, but I don’t want you comin’ back for your full moons, alright?”

Shane shook even harder, his muscles ready to snap from the tension. “You _know?”_

“Ah, don’t worry son—”

_“Stop calling me son.”_

“—I’m not a danger to you. I’m a mountain spirit, see. ‘Nother supernatural like yourself. I don’t mind your affliction—”

_“We’re not the same!”_

“—as long as you keep it away from my home. You’ll get into more trouble if you keep comin’ back here, so you best stay in your woods where you belong.”

Shane’s whole body shook with contempt for this crazy old man who had no _right_ to save his goddamned worthless life or tell him where he could or couldn’t go to fucking have his body ripped apart or who he was or where he belonged. 

“Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!” Shane stood, finally getting a bearing of his location. He was in the mountains by the lake. Robin’s house peeked through the trees below a ledge. This wasn’t where he’d camped out the night before. “Where the fuck is my shit?”

The hobo grunted, standing up from where he’d been sitting on a log. He disappeared into his tent, then came out a moment later holding Shane’s backpack in one hand. Shane ripped it from his grasp, tearing through the bag for his clothes. He was still fucking _naked,_ which added to Shane’s sense of violation. An echo of sensibility told Shane to throw his old t-shirt on under his Joja uniform as he dressed, so the blood hopefully wouldn’t leak through.

Shane was still shaking as he walked away from the old man. “Fuck off. Don’t fucking help me again, and don’t— don’t fucking tell _anyone.”_

The old man shook his head and said something in response, but Shane couldn’t hear it. Blood was rushing by his ears and his vision tunneled as he marched quickly to work. He pulled out his phone — 8:36. Shit. Shane picked up his pace, ignoring his protesting wounds, barely registering the unopened text from (Y/N). It wasn’t until Shane was standing in front of the JojaMart at 9:08 a.m. — already late to work, so what was another minute? — that he finally opened her text. 

Shane’s chest tightened. Shane was expecting the same excited anxiety from yesterday, but what he felt bubble in his chest, for some sinking reason he couldn’t place, was dread. 

__

_11:13 p.m._

_❤️(Y/N)❤️: Omg we should do a movie night sometime. Not sure what you like but im down for p much whatever!_

9:08 a.m.

Shane: yeah cool i like that idea  
Shane: any movies you got an itch to watch?

Shane huffed and pocketed his phone, steeling himself for Morris’s wrath. His boss’s barrage of insults and reprimands were just as unoriginal as Shane’s last full moon, which made them easier to ignore. Shane took the hits to his appearance and lack of work ethic and general disappointing disposition, then eased into his routine and got to work. 

Unload, unpack, restock, repeat. A mechanical motion that helped him forget about the rest of the world. He was just a machine in here, desensitized to the humans around him. The only thing reminding him of reality was that stinging ache in his shoulder. Every time he lifted a box up or down his muscles would seize into a cramp, and he’d feel a wetness seep out of the wound. After two hours at work, Shane had no choice but to clean up the wound in the bathroom.

It looked worse in the bathroom lighting. Shane had clearly been stabbed last night, and if the old man had been right about the wound being magical, then maybe Shane had finally had a fateful encounter with those kooky old ‘adventurers’ that lived up in the mountains. All he could really do was dab at it with water and pat it down with a copious amount of paper towels. He had a sinking feeling that this wound would stick around for a while. No hyper-healing for this one.

Shane loitered in the break room after that, not eager to get back to his mindless machinery. Huh, still no text from (Y/N). 

_Must be a real busy morning on the farm,_ Shane tried to convince himself, and not that she had already gotten bored of him and was moving onto someone else. Or worse, that she’d told her gossipy friends about him, and they’d scared her off with horror stories about him. She’d be right to leave, but it would still leave Shane looking like the fool.

Sam burst into the break room, panic stretched across his skinny face, startling Shane out of his brooding.

“Dude, did you hear what happened?” he exclaimed, as if that explained everything to Shane.

“No?” Shane tried to step away from the kid, but Sam cornered him in excitement.

“Dude, I just — from Pam, she heard from Penny, who heard from Maru, cuz she’s at the clinic, right? And — dude, (Y/N) got attacked by a _bear_ last night!”

Shane’s world began to slip.

“Wh-what?” 

“Yeah, man, she nearly freaking _died.”_ Sam started pacing, ripping off his cap and pulling at his hair. “Crap, I should’ve walked her home last night. My mom always said I should for girls, especially when it’s dark out, but, like, (Y/N) lives on a farm, right? And she spends time in the mines, so I thought, nah, she’ll be fine. But— holy crap, dude, if I had been there, I could’ve done something. Damnit, I’m such a bad friend.”

The tears pricking at Sam’s eyes made Shane inexplicably angry. But Shane said nothing. He expressed nothing. He completely internalized the storm raging inside him, and any movement or noise would unleash it all upon the world like a hurricane.

“Screw it, I’m going to see her,” Sam slammed his cap on the breakroom table and stormed out. Shane barely heard Sam announce he was taking an early lunch break to an irate Morris as he ran out of the supermarket. 

And then there was Shane, immobilized by a harsh reality he was desperately trying to deny.

It could’ve been a bear. It- It definitely could’ve been a bear. Hell, Shane had been attacked by a bear himself during the last full moon—

Fuck. No, no, no, don’t think about that. _It wasn’t you, it wasn’t you,_ Shane reassured himself. It couldn’t have been. He went to the mountains for that exact reason, to get away from that godforsaken farm. Sure, he didn’t know what actually happened last night, but that crazy hobo would’ve said something, right? Why would he save his life if Shane had done something terrible and evil and monstrous? If Shane had done something to (Y/N), then he deserved to die—

Shane sucked a shaky breath in through his teeth. He held it there till his veins went purple, and then released it, slowly, dragging out the stress and fear and paranoia. It was fine. (Y/N) was fine. She _wasn’t_ dead, and that was what was important. Shane _hadn’t_ killed her. Not just because it wasn’t a werewolf attack but a bear attack, but also because Shane just didn’t do it. He didn’t. 

He fought down his panic with silent rage. He returned to his mechanized motions, stocking and restocking and sorting and restocking and stocking and sorting until Sam finally came back and Shane could go on break and see (Y/N) to make sure she was okay.

Shane marched in quick formation to the clinic, barely remembering to stop and talk to Maru before pacing down the hall to where (Y/N) was. He burst into the room, and was greeted by four sets of faces. The unexpected crowd took the steam out of Shane’s determination, and he suddenly found himself being glared at as he stood there like an idiot.

“Shane, you came to visit!” (Y/N) cheered, a stupid smile on her face as she stuck her arm out to him. Her right arm was wrapped tightly in a white cast, and from what Shane could tell under the covers, the whole top half of her torso was covered in bandages.

“’C-course I did,” Shane mumbled, trying not to shake as he walked over to her.

She laid in the bed in the farthest corner of the room, room dividers pushed to the side for visitors. Hugging the wall sat Sebastian and Abigail, who looked at Shane like he was the human embodiment of the Devil himself. And then there was Harvey, who Shane had never been so relieved to see.

“I take it you’ve heard the news?” Harvey asked with a sympathetic crinkle in his eyes. Shane nodded stiffly. “She’s been through a lot the past 12 hours. She’s barely slept and is a bit out of it from the pain relievers, so… keep that in mind.”

“Shane, did you hear what happened to me?” (Y/N) asked with wide eyes, like she was a child telling a scary story over a campfire. 

“Y-yeah, heard it was a bear. Dunno what your idea of fun is supposed to be, farmer,” Shane mumbled gruffly, his attempt at a joking tone sounding lame out loud.

“Pshh, that’s nuthin,” (Y/N) slapped his arm lightly with her unbroken one, reaching over herself just to do so. Her dopey grin had some of its familiar flirtatious charm back. “My ideal night out does not involve _bears,_ for one.”

Shane couldn’t hold back a scoff. His nervous humor died quickly, though, under the withering glares from Abigail and Sebastian. Shane’s skin tingled.

“But- but dude,” (Y/N) said suddenly, leaning over to grab Shane’s hand. She locked eyes with Shane and stated with more gravity than she may have intended: “I wasn’t attacked by a bear. I was attacked by a _werewolf.”_

And Shane’s world shattered completely.

“You _didn’t_ get attacked by a werewolf,” he heard Sebastian huff. “You just think that cuz we watched that movie.”

“Yeah,” added Abigail, “you’ve been really traumatized and stuff. I mean, you don’t really know what you saw. You’re all looped up right now, but—”

“No!” (Y/N) shouted, making Shane jump. “I was _there._ I _know_ what attacked me because I’ve seen it _before._ It wasn’t a bear, it wasn’t a wolf, it wasn’t a person, it was a _werewolf.”_

Sebastian sighed. “Then why did you tell the cops it was a bear?”

“You think they woulda taken me seriously? Please, I’m not _stupid_.” And then (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him. “I just wanted them to get on with the whole interview shit… and since they can’t actually do anything about my chickens and dog and property damage, it was kinda just a big ol’ waste of time for me.”

Harvey stepped up next to Shane at (Y/N)’s bedside. “(Y/N), do you honestly believed you were attacked by a werewolf?”

“Well, yeah.” (Y/N) had a wide, dazed look in her eyes as she spoke, imitating innocence, but the gravity of her tone was unnerving. “Look, imma- I’m a monster buff. I watch horror movies, I’ve been in the mines, I’m a fuckin’ wizard’s apprentice for Christ’s sake, so I feel like I kind of have the most authority right now to say whether I was or was not attacked by a creature of the night.”

No one seemed particularly convinced. Her friends and Harvey argued with her for a while, trying to convince (Y/N) that she sounded fucking crazy, her friends sticking to their ‘delusional trauma’ argument and Harvey sticking to a ‘concussion’ angle. 

But not Shane. No, Shane just stood there stupidly, holding her hand like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Because he knew she was telling the truth. 

(Y/N)’s head leaned back against a pillow and she briefly closed her eyes, trying to block out the chatter around her. But then she perked up, her eyes bright with memory, and she exclaimed, “Oh, and Shane was there!” 

Shane _really_ jumped at that. All eyes were on him, now, as he stiffly tried to shake his head, _no, no, no, it wasn’t me, I swear, it wasn’t, it wasn’t._ (Y/N) was beaming up at him and squeezed his hand. 

“Well, not really. You still saved my life, though,” (Y/N) said wistfully, leaning her head against a pillow as she looked up at him. 

“You were in my dream—” tensions relaxed “—after I passed out from looking at my broken arm and shit, and you told me to wake up. We were in a nightclub, and it was really scary and there was this creepy song playing, and— _anyway._ It was weird, cuz you weren’t quite _you._ You were young and dark and handsome… well, not that you’re not already handsome—” eyes were back on Shane “—but it was a different kind of handsome. And you held me tight and told me to wake up, a-and- and I don’t like the next part that happened, but it woke me up. And then I ran away from the werewolf and called 911 cuz that’s what you’re supposed to do, and then Harvey came to get me, and…”

(Y/N)’s eyes closed and her head lulled against the pillow again. Her hand still held Shane’s, however, her thumb rubbing his knuckles in a soothing motion. “…and I got attacked by a werewolf but nobody’ll believe me ‘cept you, Shane.”

Shane inhaled sharply. He held his breath, trying not to breathe hard and fast and sharp and panicked like his body wanted. Abigail and Sebastian had ice in their eyes, glaring between Shane and his hand still clasped in (Y/N)’s. He exhaled slowly and let her go. He inhaled and ignored her whines, turning to leave her.

“Shane.” Harvey was in his way. He looked at Shane with pity and concern in his eyes, like the stupid preachy fucking doctor he was. “Are you okay? Would you like to step into my office and take a moment to yourself? I think you should—”

Shane walked around him, careful not to make physical contact. Nothing that would connect him to this miserable world. He left the room, stuttered in the hall, then swiftly entered the bathroom. With a quick lock of the door, Shane let out a shaky breath as his world fell apart.

_It’s happening again._

The same thing that happened five years ago, only a few months after getting cursed. It was the _exact same situation;_ how could Shane have been so stupid not to see it? People trying to help him with his problems, with his _affliction,_ and just getting hurt or killed as a result. A loving woman, too kind and full of life and _perfect_ for her own good, getting fucking killed because Shane was a monster. (Y/N)’s face mixed with Ginny’s, their faces overlaid with violent imagery that made Shane’s head spin.

_I told you so._

He shivered and slid against the door to the floor, trying to keep his ragged breaths quiet. He clutched at his pants, balling the fabric in his fists like he was hanging on for dear life. Hitching breaths, getting shallower and raspier. He tried to keep quiet, still vaguely aware of where he was, but the grief was overpowering. Deafening. All he could hear was that same voice, mocking him over and over, chanting _I told you so_ till Shane’s ears would bleed.

Shane gripped his hair as a wave of nausea overtook him. Stumbling, dizzy, he threw up in the toilet. Shane coughed up a cry, tears spilling out of him as he rasped for air. He tried to blink away the grotesque thoughts intruding into his mind. Imaginations of blood and gore danced behind his eyelids, and he cried as another wave of nausea spilled out of him. 

His throat constricted from the crying, making his breaths shallower and faster. Fuck, he had to calm down, someone might hear him. Shane shakily rose to his feet, flushing the toilet and moving to the sink. 

He didn’t want to look up to the mirror. He didn’t want to see the monster staring back at him. But he had to. He had to look presentable, he had to get back to work, he had to keep up the façade. He glanced up at the mirror, and…

There was just… nothing in his eyes. Nothing at all. 

Shane looked down to the running water freezing his hands. He shivered against the cold. He splashed his face with water, washed his face roughly, tried to pull the redness out of his eyes. When he looked back at himself, the reflection was less vulnerable. Dead outside, and in.

_Dead._

Shane clenched his fists in a final show of emotion. Then, they dropped to his sides, and with a final breath, Shane’s whole body went numb. He dried up and exited the bathroom. Harvey nearly broke him out of his spell, having been waiting by the door for Shane to exit, trying to talk to him and empathize with him and _help him._ But Shane sidestepped him roughly and marched out the clinic door.

Shane didn’t know where he was walking exactly, but his legs did. They carried him through the town. His mind was elsewhere, floating above his body like a balloon tethered only by a thin string. Shane had to keep up appearances, he couldn’t garner any attention. 

But today, he knew he had to cut that tether. He had to do whatever he could to sever his tie to the earth. He didn’t deserve anything more, and nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello sorry if your name is ginny lol, i hate naming characters which is why the farmer has no name, but i had to give shane's ex-gf a name so... her name is ginny :')
> 
> also prepare for uh. a couple more chapters of angst before anything gets fluffy again


	10. Fall Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shane's 6 heart event is referenced in this chapter, as a heads up.

Harvey watched Shane hurriedly leave the clinic with a hollow look in his eyes. Harvey had heard Shane through the bathroom door. He stood there in the hall, torn between ignoring it and leaving Shane to his business, or intervening. 

But a nagging feeling of guilt prompted Harvey to ignore his apprehensions. It was probably just a result of his over-active imagination and general anxiety, but something was telling Harvey to follow up on Shane. (Y/N) was no longer the doctor’s highest priority patient.

Harvey still had to assure himself that he wasn’t crossing doctor-patient lines when he asked Maru who Shane’s friends were.

“Sorry, Shane?” Maru clarified with an arch in her eyebrow. Harvey nodded. “Okay, that’s what I thought you said. Honestly, I don’t think he has any friends. If you’re worried, why don’t you just call Marnie?”

Harvey shook his head, dread prodding at him to _do more._ “No, I have a feeling Shane needs a friend right now, not a family member. Is there really no one you can think of?”

Maru’s judgmental expression dropped to something more serious. “Oh, um, well… if I had to guess, I’d probably say (Y/N). I did see them talking at the Luau a lot. And I guess Emily or Gus, since they see Shane a lot? Maybe Sam since they work together? Again, doc, he doesn’t really have _friends_.”

Harvey hummed in thought. On any other day, Maru’s snide asides would irritate Harvey, but now they just added to Harvey’s concern. What he had just seen Shane experience was a severe panic or anxiety attack, triggered by _something_ (Y/N) had said. Harvey couldn’t tell if it was the very fact that she’d been attacked, or if something she’d said while rambling set him off. When this was taken in consideration with Shane just a month prior limping into Harvey’s office with full-body injuries, Harvey had a sinking instinct that Shane was on the verge of some act of self-harm. He was already in the process of killing himself with alcohol, which Harvey couldn’t do much about. But Harvey _could_ take decisive actions to prevent an emotionally-driven act of violence. He just had to swallow his fear and act courageously for once in his life.

“Could you give me Emily’s number?”

Maru hesitated, clearly confused by Harvey’s train of thought, but pulled up her number from the patient database. Harvey picked up the desk phone and leaned against the counter, staring out the clinic window as he listened to the ringing against his ear.

 _“Hello?”_ Emily’s voice perked up from the other end of the line.

“Ah, Emily, hello. This is Dr. Harvey. Are you busy at the moment?”

_“Oh, hi doctor! How are you doing? I’m not busy, is something wrong?”_

“M-maybe, um— how close are you with Shane?”

 _“With Shane?”_ Harvey could tell the question caught Emily by surprise. _“I mean, I see him every night at the saloon. You know, he’s kind of a prickly guy. But I really think he’s starting to open up recently! Why do you ask?”_

“Well, I just—” Harvey cut himself off. He what, _‘had a hunch’_ that Shane was losing his marbles? He _‘had a feeling’_ that the man would do something stupid? Harvey had no real evidence to support this, and no business caring this much. But he still had to try. “I’d like you to keep an eye out for him, if you can. An eye _on_ him.”

_“S-sure, I can do that. Is… is something really wrong?”_

“I- I think right now he really needs a friend. If you could keep a lookout for him and let me know what his condition is, I would really appreciate it, Emily.”

_“Yeah, of course. I’ll text you if I run into him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything rash, don’t worry. Is there anything else you need from me?”_

“No, that’s all, Emily. Thank you again.” Harvey hung up the phone and sighed, leaning against the front counter even heavier as he let out a stressed breath. Maru was tense next to him.

“Um… is everything okay, doctor?”

Harvey sighed. “I don’t know.” 

Maru waited for more, but Harvey couldn’t give her any. Theorizing out loud that Shane seemed close to serious self-harm would come across as gossip rather than well-intentioned concern. Harvey gave Maru a curt smile and returned to (Y/N), to see if she could give him any more information about Shane’s current mental state. 

When Harvey entered the in-patient room, Abigail and Sebastian were in a heated discussion with (Y/N), who seemed to be on the verge of tears. 

“What do you mean he’s your _friend?_ (Y/N), Shane is a fucking creep,” Abigail spat, disgust plastered on her face. Harvey tried to make himself busy in another corner of the room, but found it difficult not to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

“No, he’s not, he’s really nice!” the farmer whined back, her voice creeping up with exasperation. Harvey wondered how long this argument had been going on for. “He’s just shy, once you get to know him, he’s really—”

“(Y/N), we all know him,” Sebastian cut in, his voice sharp. “You didn’t know him when he first moved to town, but he was a real _bitch_ back then like you can’t believe. The whole _town_ tried to give him a chance, and he just spat in our faces.”

“He’s probably just using you,” Abigail chimed in, her voice low and conspiratorial. “I mean, it’s not like you’d know what he’s really like. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just manipulating you cuz you’re nice.”

“He’s mean, (Y/N). You shouldn’t waste your time on him. He’s so beneath you.”

 _“Stop it!”_ (Y/N) cried, her voice breaking into tears. 

Harvey turned to the group, walking over to (Y/N)’s bed in only a few long strides. (Y/N) was holding her face in her hand, trying to shield her wet eyes from view. Sebastian and Abigail seemed shocked by (Y/N)’s tearful outburst, to their credit, but Harvey was still irritated by their incessant botherings. 

“It’s time for you two to leave,” Harvey stated, using the full authority of his title of Doctor to push his command forward. They started to protest, but Harvey put up a hand. “(Y/N) is exhausted. She’s barely slept in the past 24 hours, and the longer you keep her up, the harder it will be for her to heal.” 

Harvey left out the part he _really_ wanted to say: that they were poking and prodding at an emotionally unsteady young woman who’d just gone through a deeply traumatizing event, and their ‘concerns’ were only making things worse. Their carelessness made a protective feeling flare up in Harvey for the young farmer.

The two shuffled out with their heads low, leaving Harvey alone with (Y/N), who was softly crying into her hand. Harvey’s confidence wavered. There were many different angles he could come from to comfort her, but… well, the urgency of the _Shane_ situation still itched at Harvey’s conscience. (Y/N) seemed to care about Shane, so maybe she could provide some insight into his emotional well-being.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Harvey whispered, gently resting a hand on her casted shoulder. She nodded meekly, sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

“’m just tired…” she mumbled out. Her tears stopped, but her eyes were still bloodshot.

“You seem to care a lot about Shane,” Harvey said delicately. He knew he was crossing a line, but the foreboding feeling in his gut pushed him on.

“Heh, yeah. We um—” (Y/N) cleared her throat. She looked almost embarrassed. “We’ve been getting closer the past couple days. It was really nice for him to visit, and… really not nice for my friends to be so mean like that.”

“Just think about it like… that’s their way of showing they care about you.”

“Hm.” (Y/N) looked unconvinced, but too exhausted to say anything more. Harvey removed his hand.

“(Y/N), I’m going to let you sleep, now. But before I do… do you- well, how much do you know about Shane?”

(Y/N)’s eyes took on a guarded glare. “Not much, I guess. Why?”

“I’m… I’m worried about him,” Harvey admitted, glancing away from her stare. It was intense and emotional, not dissimilar to Shane’s, and made him nervous. “I think what happened to you has him very upset, and I just want to make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless as a result.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” (Y/N) mumbled, her eyes glazing over. “He’s a bad actor, I know that much. He thinks he’s good at hiding his emotions, but they’re always pretty obvious to me. So if you think something’s wrong with him, you’re probably right. What d’you think’s wrong with him?”

Harvey was silent, then shook his head. “Hopefully nothing. Now, I’ll finally let you rest,” Harvey said with a smile. (Y/N) smiled back weakly, before positioning herself in the bed to sleep. Harvey helped her with her cast, positioning a large pillow under her right arm for support. Then he left, turning off the lights on his way out. 

Dear Yoba, what a day.

Harvey spent the rest of his work day in his office, but once Maru left, he retreated to the comfort of his apartment. He poured himself a glass of watered-down wine and settled down on his lumpy couch. The alcohol helped ease some of the stress that had built up in Harvey’s temples over the past 12 hours, and the cushion of the sofa reminded him that he hadn’t actually slept in over 24. He closed his eyes for just a moment… 

A loud _ping!_ interrupted Harvey from his daze. He blinked and sat up quickly, instinctively pulling out his cell phone. A number he didn’t recognize had texted him.

_Unknown: Hi Harvey, I just saw Shane walking home from work. He seemed the same as normal? I have the night off but I can ask Gus to keep an eye out for him if he goes to the Saloon later._  
Harvey: That sounds good. Thank you Emily.  
Unknown: Of course!! 

Harvey quickly added Emily’s number to his contacts and set his phone down again, eager to slip back into a dreamless sleep……

Harvey awoke to the harsh ringing of his phone. He sat up from the couch, wincing at the awkward kink in his neck, and grabbed his phone.

_Emily._

Harvey quickly picked up. “Hello, Emily?” he said with a bit too much sleep in his voice. 

_“H-Harvey, oh Yoba, it- it’s Shane.”_

Harvey’s blood ran cold. He glanced outside the window. It was dark, and the faint patter of rain danced against the roof. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

 _“He- he was— Oh, God, I don’t know, I didn’t know it was this bad…”_ Emily’s voice was straining, wet with tears and rain.

“Emily, just breathe,” Harvey commanded with the gentlest of tones. “Calm down, and tell me what happened, from the beginning.”

_“Okay… W-well, I saw him leave work when I was at home, and h-he looked fine, the same as normal, you know? B-but then later, I when I was on my way to Leah’s, um— yeah, at Leah’s I saw him leave his house again, but it was already raining at that point, and so I thought it was weird. I tried to ignore it, you know, it’s not really any of my business, right? But what you said kept- I kept thinking about it, and so after an hour me and Leah left to go check on him. H-he wasn’t at home, so that worried Marnie, a-and—”_

Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Emily, what’s wrong with him?”

_“I-I— I think he tried to kill himself.”_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The yellow glow of lights shone through (Y/N)’s eyelids and roused her from her slumber. Her brain was dragged out of unconsciousness by the sharpened murmur of voices, frantic and hurried. The clattering of metal objects banging against each other as they moved around finally dragged (Y/N) out of her deep sleep, and she was finally able to piece together what was happening around her.

“Maru, get the suction,” (Y/N) heard Harvey order, his voice hushed and quick. (Y/N) heard the clanking wheels of a cart not long after his request. 

“Will—” a new voice cut in. Emily? “Will he be okay?”

“Ah, yes—” Harvey responded quickly. “Don’t worry, Shane will be fine.”

_Shane._

(Y/N) jolted in her bed. Then, she willed herself to stay very still, not wanting to alert anyone that she was awake. Why was Shane here? What happened to him? Was he okay? (Y/N) kept her eyes closed, almost trying to force herself back to sleep. 

Harvey continued to talk to Emily. “Thank you for bringing him in, Emily, but you can go home now. We have to work on him, now.”

A third female voice that (Y/N) couldn’t quite place whispered something to Emily, who shakily bid Harvey a farewell. The door closed with a heavy click.

And Harvey and Maru got to work.

They spoke in medical jargon (Y/N) wasn’t familiar with. But based on context clues, she pieced together that they were preparing to pump his stomach. The whirring of a machine and the retching noises that followed confirmed her theory. 

(Y/N)’s lip wavered, and she opened her watery eyes. The fluorescent light was situated directly over her bed, shining brightly against her vision. But she kept her eyes open, forcing herself to stare at the blinding white light above. Something about the pain felt fitting in this moment. It was grounding, in way. Kept her mind focused on the light, instead of on the things happening just a few feet away from her.

Harvey and Maru seemed to calm down for a moment, muttering to each other about toxicity and blood alcohol levels and various drug names that (Y/N) didn’t recognize. (Y/N) stayed still, her eyes pricked with tears, trying to focus on the white light above so she didn’t have to think about what happened to Shane, and why. Because, if she would admit this much to herself, it sounded like whatever happened to him had been self-inflicted. And that… _that_ was an unbearable thought.

“O-oh dear Yoba,” Maru’s voice stammered, making (Y/N)’s head tilt slightly toward them. She was hidden by a room divider, keeping her out of their view, and Shane out of hers. But she kept her movements subtle, just in case.

“What is it, Maru?” Harvey asked as he strode over to her from wherever he’d previously been in the room. 

“I was changing his shirt, and— God, what _happened_ to him?”

There was silence, marred only by the occasional rustling of fabric. 

Finally, Harvey sighed. It sounded tense, and tinged by disappointment, if (Y/N) could place the emotion properly. “Get the surgical supplies.”

“Yes, doctor.”

The doctor and nurse prepared for surgery. _Surgery._ (Y/N) thought about what had just happened to her, and her own surgery. The stitches along her ribs, and across her arm, and on her head, were suddenly itching in heat. 

A werewolf had attacked her… maybe the beast had struck again? (Y/N)’s heart started to pick up, and she forced her eyes shut again as tears finally fell down her face. From what little she knew of werewolves — sure, all her knowledge was from movies, but the myths must’ve been rooted in _some_ truth — it was possible that the werewolf could transform multiple days in a row, since the height of a full moon was not consistent. And Shane did live in Cindersap Woods, which is where she’d seen the werewolf most of the time… Oh God, keeping her crying quiet was _so hard._ (Y/N) focused all her mental capacities to evening out her breathing, trying not to fixate on what could have happened to Shane.

“What do you think happened to him?” Maru asked as they conducted surgery on Shane, the snap of scissors and the jostling of liquid-filled bottles making (Y/N)’s stomach squirm. 

“I don’t know,” Harvey responded curtly. There was a clear edge to his voice that (Y/N) rarely heard from the quiet doctor. “But… given the context, I’m not entirely surprised.”

“For real? You mean you’ve seen this before?”

“Something like it, at least.”

“But these, these wounds aren’t self-inflicted. I mean, I don’t know how they could be at the angles they’re at. Unless he was just really trying to finish the job—”

“Maru, _please,”_ Harvey cut her off sternly. “Enough conjecture. Now, let’s stitch up his chest and move onto his shoulder.”

But (Y/N) had heard too much. It took all of her willpower not to sob and the thought of Shane… of Shane trying to _finish the job…_

So it wasn’t the werewolf. No; somehow, it was much, much worse.

_He tried to kill himself._

Fuck, it was so hard not to cry.

(Y/N) kept her eyes squeezed shut as tears poured silently from them, her lip quivering in a tight grimace, her nostrils flaring to keep her breaths steady and silent. She was overwhelmed by grief. It felt like she was drowning in it, her chest heavy and her throat tight. She was so confused. Just a day ago, she had kissed him; now, he was laying next to her, half-dead. How was she supposed to make sense of any of this?

Eventually, Harvey and Maru finished their work on Shane. The whole time, (Y/N) hadn’t heard him speak a word. If it weren’t for the sigh of relief from Harvey, and the steady beep of a vitals machine, (Y/N)’s imagination would have run away from her with anxiety-fueled nightmares. Now, all she heard through her crying was Shane’s steady breathing, and the movements of Harvey and Maru cleaning themselves up.

At some point, someone turned off half the lights. The light over (Y/N) went dark, and her eyes opened. There was still a light on in the lower half of the room by the sink, but the bed area by her and Shane was dark. The dimmed lighting cast a quiet mood on the room.

“Harvey, how did you know?” Maru whispered through the quiet. 

“What do you mean?”

“You just seemed to know Shane was going to do something. I thought you were just being paranoid earlier because of what happened to (Y/N), but…”

“I just had a feeling,” Harvey said slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“You saw it before anyone else did,” Maru insisted softly. “If you didn’t try to do something, Shane would probably be at the bottom of the cliffs right now.”

(Y/N) winced at the strong language. She bit down on her lip to keep her mind distracted from the gory imagery.

“Thank you for coming in again, Maru,” Harvey deflected after a moment, his voice strained. “I know the past few days have been a lot…”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. It is my job, after all. Besides,” she added with a cheeky perk in her voice, “this just means I get some overtime pay.”

“Y-yes, of course.” 

“…Is that all, Harvey?”

“Yes, you can go home now. Thank you again, Maru. For everything.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Harvey.”

The door clicked closed behind Maru. With it, Harvey let out a long sigh. (Y/N) glanced over to where he would be standing. She could see the edge of his silhouette through the cracks in the room divider. Harvey stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders sagging in on his body. His normally imposing frame was crumpled and small. A hand went to pinch the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up as he did so. (Y/N) watched him, vaguely aware that he looked just about as rough as she felt. 

Harvey eventually straightened himself, returning to his normal, impossibly tall, height. He flicked off the lights in the room and started to leave. (Y/N)’s voice jumped out of her throat before she could stop herself.

“H-Harvey,” she called out, her voice small, like a frightened child’s.

Harvey jumped. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was looking through the darkness at her.

“(Y/N)? You’re awake?” Harvey whispered back, walking over to her bed. He pulled away the divider and looked down at her. He was absolutely exhausted, his hair tangled and his eyes bloodshot. Harvey’s eyes retained a nervous edge to them, however. “Were you awake for all that?”

(Y/N) nodded. Tears were pricking at her eyes again, and she didn’t trust her voice to keep a steady tone.

“How much did you hear? All of it?”

(Y/N) nodded again.

Harvey sighed. The edge in his eyes softened to something sympathetic. He reached out a hand, hesitated, and then gently placed his hand over (Y/N)’s. It was that simple gesture of sympathy that broke (Y/N)’s resolve. A sob escaped her throat. Tried as she did, she couldn’t reel her sobs back in. She cried and choked for air, screwing her eyes closed tight as she tried to regain control of herself. Harvey said nothing, simply keeping his large hand over hers as (Y/N) cried like a baby.

“Is he…” (Y/N) eventually stammered out, her breathing still raspy and heavy. “Is Shane gonna be okay?”

(Y/N) finally opened her eyes to look up at Harvey. He smiled tightly, but his eyes wavered. He glanced away from her nervously and withdrew his hand. “He’ll be fine. We got to him just in time, and as long as he takes care of himself after this, he’ll be alright.”

(Y/N) blinked away some tears. “Did he… did he try- did he try to—”

“I can’t…” Harvey cut her off, then scratched the back of his neck. “I can’t divulge patient information with non-family members.”

“I heard everything!” (Y/N)’s voice pitched higher. “I was awake the whole time!”

“Then…” Harvey glanced at (Y/N) guiltily. “Then you know.”

(Y/N) sighed. Her breath was shaky and still wet with tears. Harvey’s confirmation of what she already knew didn’t do much to make her feel better, but it did help calm her nerves, for some reason. 

_“Fuck,”_ was the only thing (Y/N) could think to say. 

“Yeah,” Harvey agreed with a single humorless chuckle. The silence that hung between them was awkward and tense. Harvey cleared his throat and shuffled away from (Y/N)’s bedside. “I’ll just, um, let you get some rest, then.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) called out, her voice still shaky and tinged with desperateness. “C-can I have something to help me sleep? I don’t know if I can, now.”

Harvey smiled and nodded before leaving. He soon came back with some sort of over-the-counter sleeping meds and a glass of water. And before long, (Y/N) was pulled back to sleep, and away from thoughts of Shane and all of the _could’ve, should’ve, would’ves_ swarming around in her head. 

She knew it was irrational, but she couldn’t help but think that somehow, in some twisted way, that _she_ was the cause of all this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol Harvey has lowkey turned into like a third main character… or maybe more like a major supporting character? I love the man and I want him to be happy lol
> 
> also i know i've said this before but updates are gonna slow waaaaay down bc im back in school now. so sorry lovlies :(  
> I'll try to keep updated as best I can, though! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with this fic through the summer, your kind comments mean the world to me!


End file.
